From the recording Writing my book again
Lyrics
We know it’s up there in the sky
We don’t know where
& we don’t know why
It ain’t that hard to identify
It’s obvious to the naked eye
It’s somewhere up in outer space
Shinin’ down on the Cronin’s place
We’ve looked for ages we’re at a loss
Where the f**k is the Southern Cross
Satellites, saucepans, shooting stars
Venus, Sputnicks men from Mars
Capricorn’s there but we don’t care
We’re flat out staring into thin air
There’s a big black hole
Is that Uranus?
Get off me ya whacker
You’re bloody dangerous
Where’s the Big Dipper, who gives a toss
Where the f***’s the Southern Cross
We don’t know where it’s gone
Got our beer binocle-ers on
Trying to focus on the symbol of our nation
It’s been up there all the while
Shinin’ down on our hallowed pile
It’ll be there when we bring about our self-annihilation
Boy scouts know their North from South
The Cross the pointers, they work it out
It’s up there in the Milky Way
A shitload of space & light years away
It’s up there somewhere in the ether
But I can’t see it & Ray can’t either
Maybe we’re the ones wot’s lost
Where the f***’s the Southern Cross
Anyway, grab a beer let’s get sossed
Where the etc..