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DRIVING INTO THE STORM
for Banjo
I wanted to drive us away into the sunset,
but we were heading south to Batchelor.
A big electrical storm came in hard,
smashing down. Lightning exploded
on the bitumen and the tropical devils,
who were driving a blanket of clouds,
bashed down the rain in a tantrum.
The first storms are always the hardest,
torn between leaving you
out on the paddock and bringing you
back inside, warm and dry.
But to do this, I would have to lift you
from a shock of flies and
whatever was left, of these worldly lies.
He changed my direction, as we headed home.
My spirit awoke, along a highway of dreams,
knowing that, there was a better world to come.
I wanted to drive us away into the sunset,
but we were heading south to Batchelor.
There was only so far that we could go.
We were driving hard into the storm of death,
on the bitumen near Acacia Hills and the devils
began to roar, it's not your world anymore.
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