in the desert in the dry before the breaking of the rain the temperature in the shade had reached a hundred and ten again in the desert in the dry on the overland telegraph line don t take the law into your own hands don t go looking for a fight i ve heard the bullroarers in the desert in the dry sun sits so high long day s mile and the radio crackles and the bones bleached white it s a knock em down storm see the tin roof shake wild dog howls and the long grass whistles and the tall trees break i ve seen the wild horses i ve heard the bullroarers i ve seen the wild horses shifting sands and broken plans lead me on to my homeland