Where Country Is - Slim Dusty, The Travelling Country Band

He sat by the door of the grand old Birdsville Pub

His swag and gear guarded by a faithful heeler dog

He wore a shirt that would blind ya and a rumpled ringer’s hat

This old man was country, he left no doubt of that

There was legend in the lines of his weather beaten face

Those eyes had seen a lot of changes Aussie race

The passing of the horseman, the death of an ace

Seems to me he doubted, that we turned a better page

He sat there hillbilly pickin' on a cracked and battered Gibson

And the songs that he sang were all his

Every song told a story and the more I’d listen

The more I realized this is where country is

Well he sang of mobs of cattle moving down the Birdsville track

And the camels carting wool in the early days outback

He sang of wild eyed scrubbers ridin' flat out in the night

Tryin' to ring the mob, 'cause lightning’s quick to fright

And he sang loudly and proudly of our pioneering ladies and

I suspect that one such lass was his

Home in this early frontier country, was lonely dirt floor Humphrey

No doubt about it, this man knows where country is

His songs told how they did it and I felt a sense of shame

And I wondered if the battler would ever be again

His pride for his country rang true in every song

And I wondered, if the chips were down, I would be as strong

He sat there hillbilly pickin' on a cracked and battered Gibson

And the songs that he sang were all his

Every song told a story and the more I’d listen

The more I realized this is where country is

Spoken

You know what mate, we’re so far from the city here

Know what — that’s where country is, dust storms, flies

Fade out