Lyrics The Birdsville Races - Colin Buchanan

Now folk's will tell you Birdsville is a little town
You'd miss it if you blink
But I took a trip out that way
And it's not the sort of town
Most people think .

They told me just a hundred people
Make this little town their humble home
But as I came in from Bedourie
I found I most certainly was not alone

They're 30 deep in the street
By the pub in the scrub
A sea of sozzled faces
Pack your bag, hump your swag
Out the back, down the track*
To the Birdsville Races!

*Last time to Coda

Now I've seen them race at Randwick
Where admittedly the track is somewhat greener
But dirt and dust fit the bill quite nicely
Out there by the Diamantina

The bookies do a roaring trade
And even me, an out-and-out beginner
Put 2 bucks each way on Loquacity
Who thundered home a winner .

They're 30 deep in the street
By the pub in the scrub
A sea of sozzled faces
Pack your bag, hump your swag
Out the back, down the track*
To the Birdsville Races!

They'd flown, they drove, they bussed it
It was really nothing short of an invasion .
And Brooksey had his pan-tech full of booze
Ready for the big occasion

Come Sunday all the visitors and
Dagwood vans and hangers-on departed
And I wonder if the first old Birdsville jockey
Knew just what it was he started!

They're 30 deep in the street
By the pub in the scrub
A sea of sozzled faces
Pack your bag, hump your swag
Out the back, down the track*
To the Birdsville Races!

*Coda
See you cob, join the mob
By the pub, in the scrub
At the Birdsville Races