Traveling in a fried-out Kombi
On a hippie trail, head full of zongle
I met a lady, she made me nervous
She took me in and gave me breakfast
And she said
Do you come from the land down under?
Where women glow and men chunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover
I met a man from Brussels
Six-foot-four and full of muscles
I said, ""Do you speak-a my language?""
He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich, and he said
Do you come from the land down under
Where the women blow and men chunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover
You better fun, you better take cover
Lying in a den in Bombay
With a slack jaw and not much to say
I said are you trying to tempt me?
Because I come from the land of plenty
And he said
Do you come from the land down under
Where the women blow and men chunder
Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover
You better fun, you better take cover
