Bloom up the wattle in springtime
Till its green and gold as can be
Let the cold winds of winter die hard
There ain't no cure that is free

Lies too old to remember
Bruises too blue to show
Words too cruel to mention
Stories that nobody knows

In the Halfway House of the Broken
From where the Dear John letters are sent
There's hardly a word ever spoken
And always a room there to rent

Shattered dreams lay in pieces
Worn out tyres on a heartbreak road
He remembers his mother's soft tears
By that street light where the Thompson flowed

You never see it coming
When true love lights the flame
But in the Halfway House of the Broken
There's not one guilty soul to blame

In the Halfway House of the Broken
From where the Dear John letters are sent
There's hardly a word ever spoken
And always a room there to rent

In the Halfway House of the Broken
From where the Dear John letters are sent
There's hardly a word ever spoken
And always a room there to rent