Where the moon sinks low in the southern sky
|
On the open plains, where the river runs dry
|
Well, his feet are bare, bare and dusty brown
|
And a hot wind blows over sacred ground
|
|
And a new day breaks
|
On the mountainside
|
Reaching out, reaching out
|
Over the great divide
|
It's a long, long road
|
Stretching out ahead
|
Step by step, step by step
|
Over the great divide
|
|
On a dead end street in a border town
|
Where the stray dog sleeps in the midday sun
|
Now the headline news is old and worn
|
The pages stained with blood and rain,
|
And cheap red wine
|
|
And his skin is black
|
The last of his tribe
|
And he turns his back, turns his back
|
On the great divide
|
And a new day breaks
|
On the mountainside
|
Reaching out, reaching out
|
Over the great divide
|
|
Solid rock and burning sand
|
Weathered by the hand of time
|
Standing high above the storm
|
Cutting deep against the grain
|
And the years have come and gone
|
Leaving all their scars behind
|
Where the hills begin to climb
|
Therea??s a legend carved in stone
|
|
And a new day breaks
|
On the mountainside
|
Reaching out, reaching out
|
Over the great divide
|
It's a long, long road
|
Stretching out ahead
|
Step by step, step by step
|
Over the great divide
|
And his skin is black
|
The last of his tribe
|
And he turns his back, turns his back
|
On the great divide
|
It's a long, long road
|
That leads him home again
|
Step by step, step by step
|
Over the great divide
|
|
-----------------
|
The Great Divide
|
Icehouse |