Waves like war drums on the reef, Salt in the blood, sand in the teeth. We ride where the old spirits call— Board like a shield, wave like a wall. No worries, mate—just hold the line, This bloody swell’s our battle sign. Straya’s coast, where the mad ones play— Reckon we’ll surf till our dying day. Black sky, moon hung low, Reef-line glowing, with a undertow. Feet on wax, heart in the foam, Calling the tide before we go home. Paddle through the dark and the pull, Horizon breathing, deep and full. Ancestors ride in the curling crest, Drums in the water, fire in the chest. Fair dinkum, the ocean’s got a roar, Like a Holden ute on a dirt-track floor. Heaps of swell and the wind’s offshore— Bloody perfect, couldn’t ask for more. Feel it rise— The ocean’s war cry. Hold your line— The break’s are fine Ride! Ride! Ride the bone drum wave! Crash! Smash! Where the brave behave! Surf! Surf! On a tribal roar! Metal hearts on a shoreline war! Bloody hell, we’re gonna ride today— No muppets here, just surfers, mate! Straya’s tribe on a salty spree— Dead-set legends of the sea! Dawn breaks red on a glassy face, Shadows dance in the spray and lace. Board cuts deep like a sacred knife, Carving our names in the edge of life. Wind sings low through the coastal pines, Echo of drums in the surf and lines. We’re the tribe of the shifting tide, Where the reef and the thunder collide. Arvo session, sun on the fade, Cold one waiting in the esky shade. Blokes and sheilas, all in the mix— Salty as hell and built for the sticks. Feel it rise— The ocean’s war cry. Hold your line— The break’s gonna shine Ride! Ride! Ride the bone drum wave! Crash! Smash! Where the brave behave! Surf! Surf! On a tribal roar! Metal hearts on a shoreline war! Bloody hell, we’re gonna ride today— No muppets here, just surfers, mate! Straya’s tribe on a salty spree— Dead-set legends of the sea! Hey! Hey! Wave like a drum! Hey! Hey! Till the breakers come! Hey! Hey! Blood and the shine! Hey! Hey! This coast is mine! Straya’s coastline, wild and free— No place I’d rather bloody be. Reckon the old ones surfed this line— Now it’s our turn, our time to shine.... [Guitar Solo] Ride! Ride! Ride the bone drum wave! Crash! Smash! Where the brave behave! Surf! Surf! On a tribal roar! Metal hearts on a shoreline war! Ride! Ride! Till the sun burns red! Surf! Surf! With the ocean dead-set in your head! Tribe of the break, tribe of the foam— We ride the metal tide back home. Yeah, we’re proper salty, rough and true— Aussie surf tribe, me and you. No worries, mates, we’ll be back again— Same time, same break, same bloody end..... Waves like war drums on the reef… Salt in the blood… sand in the teeth… Ride… ride… ride… No worries, mate… we’ll be back at it, tomorrow......ride........ride.....ride......ride.....
