A fantastic Australian Crawl song from James Reyne’s "One Night in Melbourn" DVD. Buy it! Lyrics: Ain't nothing like the windy city Where the station-wagon died Where the wild dogs meet the fences And the horsemen, fences ride Where the flatlands become flatlands And the caravans collide I'm just sitting 'neath the mango Running a tide Took a ride on a bin-train 50 cars or more They say the heads are just insane But it's too risky to score Sittin' on the lawn with Andrea Draggin' the line for big red Everyone looks better with a suntan Easier to get you into bed Daughters of the northern coast Sons of beaches, don't deliver the post You know the post is a ghost Lee Marlin went lookin' for a marvin While we were looking for a line at the pub Hey, and still the black man's starvin' No wonder nobody wants a job Helicopter over homestead Stirring all the young blades at night They're steppin' out there in the sultry summer evening Their pistols all packed And their badges so bright Daughters of the northern coast Sons of beaches, don't deliver the post You know the post is a ghost Took a ride on a bin-train 50 cars or more They say the heads are just insane But it's too risky to score Andrea's been giving me a towel down Standing on a palm beach shore If 'n'those girls keep a doin' that thing I can't wait for next year I'm gonna come back for more Daughters of the northern coast Sons of beaches, don't deliver the post You know the post is a ghost