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The faces in the photographs are fading |
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I can't believe he looks so much like me |
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For its been ten long years today since I left for old Cork Station |
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And I won't be back till the drove is done. |
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For the rain never falls on the dusty Diamantina |
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The drover finds it hard to change his mind |
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For the years have surely gone like the drays from old Cork Station |
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And I won't be back till the drove is done. |
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It seems like the sun comes up each morning |
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Sets me up then takes it all away |
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Dreaming by the light of the campfire at night |
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Ends with the early light of the day. |
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I sometimes think I'll settle back in Sydney |
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It's been so long and it's hard to change your mind |
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For the cattle trail rolls on and on, the fences last forever |
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And I won't be back when the drove is done. |
