Trying to write a note to you
You can tell by the shaky hands
It's not an easy thing to do
You can see by the smudgy paper
there's bulldust in the air
There's no piece of cake on a gravel road
But for poor old Bob and his trucky mates
It's at least ten years too late
Still it got us to where they mine
Those sparkling milky jewels
Where men can strike it rich
Where fate has struck at fool
Well, we drank and talked to the locals
Wasn't out of a heated tin
And the bowls were more like gold pans
And boy, the broth was great
It reminded me of my grandma,
so I ordered another plate
In a dusty gleam -to -town,
with a dusty digger's face
Where you can find an opal, Eddie,
and live and die without a trace
Well the bloke at the local garage
knew the town he now despised
He said it really had character,
but now it's all commercial
Well I'm blood if I could see it,
it had a hell of a way to go
But his petrol was dear as poison,
so I guess he ought to know
In a dusty lean -to town,
with a dusty digger's face
Where you can find an opal,
if you can stand the pace
and live and die without a trace
And blowers pop through those
Lookin' like hammerheads in the air
In the middle of nothing but saltbush
There's no piece of cake on a gravel road
With a dusty figure's face,
where you can find an opal
If you can stand the place,
No matter what your race,
We'll live and die without