Hobart Town, winter time grey buildings look like icebergs by the ocean Summer time a cool south wind, keeps a mind from melting Ships roll in through the entrance of the river Back in 1830 with a convict cargo to deliver Fingerprints are in the sandstone, from a prisoner that remains unknown Gypsies come from miles around, to sell sell their art to the town On a Saturday, public forum marketplace Everyone can have their say, all the people have their say Salamanca in Hobart Town, bohemians and the gypsies are dancing Hackysack and a joint's goin around Social conscience, hear all the people sing Oh - power to our people they sing Oh - fight the good fight while you can All the left wing, dreadlocks on the lawn but they don't sing They're too serious, too many issues to be discussed I hear you say, everything's gunna be OK, to fight the good fight And talk the talk into the night