its a plume of dust down an old dirt road
and hanging off the rails at the rodeo
a back verandah with creaking boards
and the dark range of a thunderstorm
its the stockmans bar at an old bush pub
and chasing mickey's though the scrub
its planting seeds and praying for rain
and the red dust runing through your veins
CHORUS:
its the way it is, its the way it goes
when my wheels hit the gravel road it feels like home
its the way of life, its the life i live
and im right where i want to be
thats the way it is
its a corrugated iron shed
and work boots on a backdoor step
scones in the oven and preserves in jars
talking prces at the saleyards
its long straight roads and one horse towns
and sheep dogs bringing the mob around
its she'll be right and having a go
its good on ya mate and what do ya know?
REPEAT CHROUS
its the eerie still in the grey of dawn
feilds of wheat and rows of corn
a rusty tank and flaking paint
a weary digger on ANZAC day
its the dreamtime land and uluru
aborigine didgeridoo
its batterd hats and calloused hands
the spirit of a hard won land
