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The faces in the photograph have faded |
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And I can't believe he looks so much like me |
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For it's been ten years today |
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Since I left for Old Cork Station |
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Sayin' I won't be back till the drovin's done |
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For the rain never falls on the dusty Diamantina |
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And a drover finds it hard to change his mind |
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For the years have surely gone |
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Like the drays from Old Cork Sta-ation |
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And I won't be back till the drovin's done |
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Well it seems like the sun comes up each mornin' |
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Sets me up and takes it all away |
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For the dreaming by the light |
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Of the camp fire at ni-ight |
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Ends with the burning by the day |
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For the rain never falls on the dusty Diamantina |
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And a drover finds it hard to change his mind |
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For the years have surely gone |
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Like the drays from Old Cork Sta-ation |
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And I won't be back till the drovin's done |
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Sometimes I think I'll settle back in Sydney |
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But it's been so long it's hard to change my mind |
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For the cattle trail goes on and on |
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And the fences roll forever |
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And I won't be back till the drovin's done |
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For the rain never falls on the dusty Diamantina |
|
And a drover finds it hard to change his mind |
|
For the years have surely gone |
|
Like the drays from Old Cork Sta-ation |
|
And I won't be back till the drovin's done |
|
For the rain never falls on the dusty Diamantina |
|
And a drover finds it hard to change his mind |
|
For the years have surely gone |
|
Like the drays from Old Cork Station |
|
And I won't be back till the drovin's done |