text: Well, its hotter than blazes and all the long faces
  Therell be no oasis for a dry local grazier
  Therell 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
  Theres nothing sadder than a town with no cheer
  Vic Rail decided the canteen was no longer necessary there
  No spirits, no bilgewater and eighty dry locals
  And the high noon sun beats a hundred-and-four
  Theres a hummingbird trapped in a closed-down shoe store
  This tiny Victorian rhubarb
  Kept the watering hole open for sixty-five years
  Now its boilin in a miserable March 21st
  Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patersons curse
  The train smokes down the xylophone
  Therell be no stopping here
  All you can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer
  No Bourbon, no Branchwater
  Though the townspeople here
  Fought her Vic Rail decree tooth and nail
  Now its boilin in a miserable March 21st
  Wrapped the hills in a blanket of Patersons curse
  The train smokes down the xylophone
  Therell be no stopping here
  All you can be is thirsty in a town with no cheer