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Traveling in a fried-out combieOn a hippie trail, head full of zombieI met a strange lady, she made me nervousShe took me in and gave me breakfastAnd she said,"Do you come from a land down under?Where women glow and men plunder?Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?You better run, you better take cover."Buying bread from a man in BrusselsHe was six foot four and full of musclesI said, "Do you speak-a my language?"He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwichAnd he said,"I come from a land down underWhere beer does flow and men chunderCan't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?You better run, you better take cover."Lying in a den in BombayWith a slack jaw, and not much to sayI said to the man, "Are you trying to tempt meBecause I come from the land of plenty?"And he said,"Oh! Do you come from a land down under? (oh yeah yeah)Where women glow and men plunder?Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?You better run, you better take cover."