Derelict weatherboard miners cottage, Waterloo, on the road between Avoca and Beaufort, Western Victoria.

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Original verse by Edmund West and Liz.
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A sensuous scratch.
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Do you have a spirit, a soul, a voice.
Whisper in the wind, a quiet rejoice.
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Burnt siena, ochres, tonal grays
Olive eucalyptus the afternoon haze.
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Pee on a tree, a jaggedy dark patch
Blonde summer grass, a sensuous scratch.
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The gate is open just a chink
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The gate is open just a chink
Should I go through, what do you think?
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I'm going out the door
In search of a why and wherefore
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Do you see the land of promise
Or has it been taken from us.
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Talk in real life
Either way there can be strife.
Talking in real life can be difficult. Lean on a gate,
It will be great.
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Splash in the sea,
Wait and see.
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The beach is deserted
Except for some kelp
We walk in the shallows
I give a joyous yelp
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A ray shoots under my foot
Gone in a blink
A split second shadow
No need to think
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All is shimmers.
The waves flat and languid
Breakers unfinished
Don't care if I'm stupid