[Verse 1] Chrome was gleaming on the edge of the blue Down at the Toronto wharf back in fifty-two Matchless and BSAs lined up in a row Victory Parade had that mid-century glow Brylcreem hair and the smell of the fuel If you had a machine, man, you ruled the school. [Verse 2] The train would pull in and the girls would step down Prettiest things in the Newcastle town High-waisted shorts and that lipstick so red Silk scarves tied tight to the top of their head Crowding the milk bar and shaking the floor Johnny O'Keefe blastin’ out of the door. [Chorus] Oh, Lake Macquarie, you used to swing hot Motorbikes roaring in the parking lot The girls and the grease and the sun in our eyes We were living our lives under blue Aussie skies But the music has died and the engines are still And the ghost of old Toronto is heading down hill. [Verse 3] We’d swim at the baths where the water was clear Flirting on grass with a cold, Pilsener beer Ripping up waves on a timber speedboat Man, back in those days we were staying afloat Rock 'n' roll dancing till the floorboards would crack We had all of the good things and never looked back. [Verse 4] Now I walk down the street on a dead Saturday noon And the silence is playing a different tune No roar of a twin, just a hatchback hum And a supermarket sign looking heavy and glum They traded the edge for a concrete path And a council sign saying you can't even laugh. [Chorus] Oh, Lake Macquarie, you used to swing hot Motorbikes roaring in the parking lot The girls and the grease and the sun in our eyes We were living our lives under blue Aussie skies But the music has died and the engines are still And the ghost of old Toronto is heading down hill. [Bridge] Now it’s mobility scooters and phones in the dark No wild summer nights down at the park It’s a retirement village where the past comes to die Just a scenic backdrop under a grey-coloured sky They smoothed out the grit, they took all the soul And they put a restriction on alcohol. [Outro] Yeah, it’s just crap now... The loud bikes are gone. The hot chicks have left. Just a cover band at the pub sang at half-speed. Let the old lake drain. Faded out on a dying Breed... Gone.
