Spark of the Heart lyricsFrom Frontline (1984)
Spark of the Heart (Michael Atkinson) It’s a harsh dry land, it breaks your back And scars and gnarls your hands. Now carcasses rot in the sun, And dust silts up the dams. Sacked two men when the postie poked those Blueys though the flyscreen door…. And the welfare state dried up ten years before. It’s Hobsons’ choice, they run this plain And the flocks melt into bone. You can drove the stockroutes for a year And cripple life at home. I still look forward to every day But every day’s the same: Awake in a sweat, a dream of the smell of rain. But a river runs silent, runs deep. I work this land, it grips me by my feet. Staying ‘til my blood runs cold. Spark of the heart, iron in the soul. My great grandfather pushed his luck Beyond the Goyder line. Now all that’s left are mute ploughshares And a gravestone caulted with lime. In tribute, I still use his Swiss barometer in vain. But fate be damned, the weather hasn’t changed. Fifty miles by riverland, There’s pasture fenced and sprayed. Profit margins chinagraphed on Boardrooms in LA. Absenting landlords meet to match Their smiles and fake suntans. In three years they’ll have leached the soil to sand. But a river runs silent, runs deep. I work this land, it grips me by my feet. Staying ‘til my blood runs cold. Spark of the heart, iron in the soul. Josie searches saltbush, Where rain once rain its course. It’s a shock to see a child of twelve Grow old upon a horse. The glory box lies locked with memories Silent as the phone. But even in the shadows, it’s our home. Government relief just might keep Breeding stock alive. But the agents jumped the cost of feed And the export market’s dived If it breaks, I’m still in debt Until I’m ninety eight. Will the last one out please shut the bloody gate. On the news it seems unreal Droughts a cancer cities just can’t feel. Survival’s a story untold. Spark of the heart, iron in the soul But a river runs silent, runs deep. I work this land, it grips me by my feet. Staying ‘til my blood runs cold. Spark of the heart, iron in the soul. |
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1984 Frontline album version
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