midnight oil
bullroarer
in the desert in the dry before the breaking of the rain the temperature in the shade had reached a hundred and ten again in the desert in the dry on the overland telegraph line don't take the law into your own hands don't go looking for a fight i've heard the bullroarers in the desert in the dry sun sits so high long day's mile and the radio crackles and the bones bleached white it's a knock-em-down storm see the tin roof shake wild dog howls and the long grass whistles and the tall trees break i've seen the wild horses i've heard the bullroarers i've seen the wild horses shifting sands and broken plans lead me on to my homeland