| Why don’t we go back to the sheep | 
| And leave this old lady alone | 
| We’ve pushed and we’ve pulled | 
| We’ve killed and we’ve mauled | 
| And there’s nowhere to hide from the sun | 
| Why do we take more than we need | 
| What is this strange disease? | 
| We turn everything we can see into money | 
| Damn the earth, damn the sky, damn the seas | 
| Why do we destroy so much life | 
| When we’re more than flesh on the bone | 
| I jump in my truck, but I’m out o' luck | 
| 'Cause most of the trees have now gone | 
| (Take the) girls for a pony ride, show them the brigalow | 
| Like the hair on my face it was all over the place | 
| Eighty odd years ago | 
| (There's a) couple on the side of the road | 
| And one’s got some kind of grub | 
| (There was) box and boonery, belah and black wallaby | 
| Ask the old bloke down the pub | 
| There was supple-jack and leopard wood | 
| Myall, Wilga and it goes on | 
| I jump in my truck, but I’m out o' luck | 
| 'Cause most of the trees have now gone | 
| Most of the trees have now gone | 
| (So why) don’t we go back to the wool | 
| Start keeping the whole world warm | 
| We’ve dug and we’ve dirted | 
| We’ve sprayed and we’ve squirted | 
| And it all floats away in the storm | 
| My life is just a flash in the dark, I know | 
| And I’m just a victim of fate | 
| Why was I born in this beautiful world | 
| Why was I born too late | 
| To walk in the virgin bushland | 
| Put damper and billy on | 
| I jump in my truck, but I’m out o' luck | 
| 'Cause most of the trees are now gone | 
| Most of the trees have now gone |