Out in the west of the Transberry pines
Self-serving in the British Empire
An Aussie boy and he's so far from home
Breaker Morant, man of stone
He was a poet and a lover, they say
The only man to ever write dog inns grave
A volunteer to go fight the boys
Or a wind up answering to crimes of war
Won't fly under the African sun
Won't fly when dirty deeds are done
The orders came down from Kirchner himself
To take no prisoners and offer no help
Nothing riding to protect those above
Shit runs downhill and it gets no lower
It won't fly under the African sun
Won't fly when dirty deeds are done
It was a cold blood planned, on the hand was a list
With the taste and face of evil desire
I was an awful guy in the wink of the night
Where the foot knows last pose keeps up the empire
Greedy warfare has no beg your pardons
Born is a child in a ruthless garden
Colonial boys, they would take all the blame
But God bless, pretender, they were doing the same
Won't fly under the African sun
Won't fly when dirty deeds are done
Won't fly under the African sun
Won't fly
