Well it's hotter 'n blazes and all the long facesnthere'll be no oasis for a dry local graziernthere'll be no refreshment for a thirsty jackaroonfrom Melbourne to Adelaide on the overlandernwith newfangled buffet cars and faster locomotivesnthe train stopped in Serviceton less and less oftennThere's nothing sadder than a town with no cheernVoc Rail decided the canteen was no longer necessary therenno spirits, no bilgewater and 80 dry localsnand the high noon sun beats a hundred and fournthere's a hummingbird trapped in a closed down shoe storennThis tiny Victorian rhubarbnkept the watering hole open for sixty five yearsnnow it's boilin' in a miserable March 21 stnwrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's cursenthe train smokes down the xylophonenthere'll be no stopping herenall ya can be is thirsty in a town with no cheernno Bourbon, no Branchwaternthough the townspeople herenfought her Vic Rail decree tooth and nailnnow it's boilin' in a miserable March 21 stnwrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's cursenthe train smokes down the xylophonenthere'll be no stopping herenall ya can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer