(Verse 1)White towers floating on the morning tideBlocking out the sun on the harbor sideTwelve thousand cameras clicking at the bridgeStepping off the gangway to the concrete ridgeThey spill into the Rocks, they spill into the streetA tidal wave of wallets and shuffling feet!They want the postcard view, they want the souvenirBut they don't see the engine room shifting into gear!(Chorus)Breathe it in! Spit it out!The great white whales are turning about!Empty the cabins, fill up the hold!Another payload of silver and gold!Sydney Harbor, she's wide awakeHow much more can the old girl take?(Verse 2)Down on the wharves, the diesel engines roarForklifts screaming on the concrete floorPallets of lettuce, tons of frozen beefPumping in the fuel just to buy reliefTrucks backed up to the water’s edgeFeeding the beast on the harbor ledgeThree thousand pineapples, ten thousand eggsKeep 'em alive on their luxury legs!(Guitar Solo - Sharp, screeching, frantic Jim Moginie style, echoing off the stadium walls)(Bridge)(The beat drops to just a driving bass and a high-hat tick)Floating hotels with a million lightsSailing away into the southern nightsThey take the photos, they leave the wasteA quick consumption, an expensive tasteWho holds the ledger? Who pays the price?For twenty-four hours in paradise?WHO PAYS THE PRICE?(Chorus)Breathe it in! Spit it out!The great white whales are turning about!Empty the cabins, fill up the hold!Another payload of silver and gold!Sydney Harbor, she's wide awakeHow much more can the old girl take?(Outro)(The band kicks into overdrive, frantic energy, Peter Garrett shouting rhythmically, pointing directly at the audience)Restock! Reload!Get 'em on the boat!Restock! Reload!Keep the wealth afloat!Out past the Heads, into the blueNext one's coming, right on cue!Yeah, the next one's coming!Right on cue!(The guitar dissolves into heavy, screeching feedback. The drums crash violently and stop dead. The crowd erupts.)
