Slim Dusty – The Drovers Yarn (Guitar)

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He looked out of place in the big city park where he' stopped for a rest on a seat

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And I guessed from his suntanned weathered old face and the horseman's boots on his feet

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He'd come from somewhere away in the west you could see he was lonely that day

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I thrust out my hand, he grinned as he shook it I sat down and bid him G'day

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He started yarning and soon it was clear he longed for the land further out

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Where he'd lived as a youth drovin' Queensland mobs with his mates down the Murranji route

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In the days when road trains were still unknown on tracks where there weren't many bores

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He spoke of wild rides and of rushes he'd seen when in bringing in Ord river stores

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So many nights he had raced for the lead of a thirst crazed fear maddened pack

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When Kimb'ley bullocks had broke from the camp in the scrub on the Murranji track

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He mentioned the heat and the famines and floods and hardships which few of us know

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He'd seen stock routes like movin' green oceans of grass in those days long ago

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He recalled how he'd seen near the Marion gate, wild sorghum stirrup iron high

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Lagoons filled with water wild fowl and lilies and the land where the flock pigeons fly

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I wished as he yarned with a lump in my throat that someone could wind back the clock

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So he could go back with the mates he had known on the road with the Kimberley stock

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Oh he looked out of place in the big city park where he'd stopped for a rest on a seat

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Oh I remember his suntanned weathered old face and the horseman's boots on his feet

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Still yarning he dozed and I left him to dream of stockroutes all covered with clover

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And of times I think when I stroll in the park of my yarn with that old homesick drover