Georgina's Son - Slim Dusty

Spoken lead-up

Trucks and roadtrains taking over, the drovers been pushed out.

The old track is seldom used anymore.

This song is dedicated to the drovers of yesterday and today

and to the last of the great droving stock-routes,

the Georgina.

Which begins at Lake Nash near Mt Isa, and ends near Bourke

in western New South Wales.

Sung

I was born in the saddle,

Born into a life I’ll never leave,

The life of the drover,

Will always be the only life for me,

Like my father before me,

I’ve ridden every stock-route in the land,

From the Canning to the Birdsville Track,

I know 'em like the back.

… of my hand,

They call me Georgina’s Son.

The last one in a long proud family line,

I’m the Georgina’s Son,

Comin' back to ride the old track one more time,

From Lake Nash to The Black Stump,

This run’s for the sake of Auld Lang Syne,

‘cause Georgina’s Son,

Is comin' back to see the old girl one last time.

I have seen me some changes,

In fifty years and fifteen miles a day,

With droughts an' floods an' midnight rushes

trying to take my life along the way,

And I’m still in the saddle

Still tryin' to settle down some restless mob,

Stirred up by the distant roar of diesel in the night,

Another duffer out to get my job.

They call me Georgina’s Son,

The last one in a long proud family line,

I’m the Georgina’s Son,

Comin' back to ride the old track one more time,

From Lake Nash to The Black Stump,

This run’s for the sake of Auld Lang Syne,

‘cause Georgina’s Son,

Is comin' back to see the old girl one last time.

From Lake Nash to The Black Stump,

This run’s for the sake of Auld Lang Syne,

‘cause Georgina’s Son,

Is comin' back to see the old girl one last time.