The Flame by Icehouse
On the edge of the city
in the dust of the daylight
there's a place
where the truth cannot hide
There's no hell and no heaven
no sense in believing
all you have is your hope
and your pride
Rusting iron, bricks and paper
hold each other for shelter
so you sleep
and you call it home
You may just hear
the sound of the calm
before the storm
In my heart of the country
far away from the town
working day after day
in the factories and mines
And your name is a number
and your colour is black
it's the colour of midnight
and coal
Well, the young men are restless
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