The New Bush

The dawn is breaking, out on a back track, the sun is cutting through like a knife.
He knows the morning, the smell of the diesel, another day in a young mans life,
And he wears the dust, he’s one of us.
The New Bush is here, a turn of the page, there’s talk around the town of better days.
You can see it in their eyes real as the Sun, a quiet revolution’s begun,
in the New Bush
Her hands are wailing, and she’s on a mission handed down from father to son,
She knows the country, respects the old ways, she’ll kick it in and get the job
done.
In these changing times, she holds the line.
The sun still burns, and the land still aches, the mob still turns,
and a new day breaks.