Town with No Cheer

Well, it's hotter and blazes and all the long faces

There'll be no oasis for a dry local grazier

There'll be no refreshment for a thirsty jackaroo

From Melbourne to Adelaide on the overlander

With newfangled buffet cars and faster locomotives

The train stopped in Serviceton less and less often



No, there's nothing sadder than a town with no cheer

VicRail decided the canteen was no longer necessary

No spirits, no bilgewater and eighty dry locals

And the high noon sun beats a hundred and four

There's a hummingbird trapped in a closed down shoe store

This tiny victorian rhubarb kept the watering hole open for sixty five years



Now it's boiling in a miserable March twenty first

Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's curse

The train smokes down the xylophone, there'll be no stopping here

All ya can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer



No bourbon, no branchwater

Though the townspeople here fought the VicRail decree tooth and nail



Now it's boiling in a miserable March twenty first

Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patterson's curse

The train smokes down the xylophone, there'll be no stopping here

All ya can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer