One, twonOne, two, three!nnThe sunrise bleeds into the bay,nLanded in Sydney, nothing's changed.nIt's still so beautiful in ways I will never benThe dogs are still in parliamentnAnd every summer day is spentnUnder the shade down by the fence, cricket on TVn nThe desert cracks under the sun.nThe farmers wait for rains to comenWe all have our own race to run, sometimes nAnd everything we read about, I would believe but I'm in doubt, on what's left in and what's left out nThis timennNo way will we run,nNo way will we run and hide,nUnder a southern skynUnder a southern skynUnder a southern skynnThere's beach towels laid out on the shore,nWhere no one needs or wants for more,nAnd all the radio is for is monotonynAn eastern suburbs housewife yawns,nAnd while the gardener mows her lawns,nWe all just smile and play along,nAnd why wouldn't we?nIt's easier to be undone,nThan it is to stand and run,nIt's easier to feel it's come, untiednThe dream they'll sell you isn't muchnLike the reality but, nUnderneath it all there's dust, and time...nnNo way will we run,nNo way will we run and hide,nUnder a southern skynUnder a southern skynUnder a southern skynUnder a southern sky