Yankee Satellite

Rusted old satellite

Crashed down in the outback

Over the Nullabor

The town of Balladonia

Empty highway, desert scrub

Cattle stations parched and dry

The roadhouse, an old relic

Standing strong in Nullabor heat

Well this is my town!

This is my bloody town!

This is my goddamn town!

Too many people have come through this door

And I can't get a beer at my pub anymore

Too many people have come through this door

I can't get a beer at my pub anymore

People came from everywhere

With 10 grand up for grabs

Boarding flights from all abroad

Descending on that old town

Descending on my old town!

Well this is my town!

This is my bloody town!

This is my goddamn town!

Too many people have come through this door

And I can't get a beer at my pub anymore

Too many people have come through this door

I can't get a beer at my pub anymore

I came to this town 40 years ago with my mrs

We got married in Townsville

And then we came to quiet Balladonia

Been working the farm here ever since

It's a simple life but it's my life

I love my routine

Up at the crack of dawn shearing sheep

And doing what is needed to keep things ticking over

I come down to this watering hole

Every night for knock-offs

And sit at the same spot here at the bar

Now all these yuppies are swarming the place

Looking for some fallen yankee satellite!

Too many people have come through this door

And I can't get a beer at my pub anymore

Too many people have come through this door

I can't get a beer at my pub anymore