John Williamson - On Our Selection Тексты

The creek is dry, so the cow
We're all broke, so the plow
The horse is lame, the chooks won't lay


Just another day on our Selection
On our Selection


The year we came, we had a drought
And floods they put the bushfires out
The wind blew half the place away


Just another day on our Selection
On our Selection


When the blowfly's roar and the yellow dogs howl
If it ain't Armageddon then it's heading in the same direction


Got to hoe till you'll drop, with a hole in your shoe
On a mouthful of cockatoo stew


On our Selection


We planted barley, barley died
We planted oat, it never tried
We're planting corn, now let us pray


Just another day on our Selection
On our Selection


No butter, no bread, no blankets on the bed
And poor Dad, bloody mad, still dreaming of a resurrection


Well you gotta silly or you gotta be a saint
Because it ain't alot of fun here living on our selection


The sky is blue, the meat is green
The axe is blunt, but Dad's still keen
He says we're lucky (hip hooray)


Just another day on our Selection
On our Selection


Just another day on our Selection
On our Selection


On our Selection
On our Selection
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