Текст песни Back Where I Belong - Slim Dusty
                                                Gonna 
                                                load 
                                                up 
                                                the 
                                                Jeep 
                                                and 
                                                ride 
                                                for 
                                                    a 
                                                week 
                                                and 
                                                maybe 
                                                even 
                                                more
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                pine 
                                                again 
                                                for 
                                                the 
                                                open 
                                                plain 
                                                and 
                                                my 
                                                old 
                                                stock 
                                                mates 
                                                of 
                                                York
 
                                    
                                
                                                I've 
                                                had 
                                                my 
                                                taste 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                city 
                                                race
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                them 
                                                    I 
                                                feel 
                                                all 
                                                wrong
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                old 
                                                bush 
                                                calls 
                                                like 
                                                    a 
                                                mother 
                                                calls
 
                                    
                                
                                                Back 
                                                where 
                                                you 
                                                belong
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                there's 
                                                holes 
                                                and 
                                                stones 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                road 
                                                back 
                                                home 
                                                but 
                                                that 
                                                don't 
                                                bother 
                                                me
 
                                    
                                
                                                It 
                                                jar 
                                                and 
                                                jolt 
                                                may 
                                                rattle 
                                                the 
                                                bolts
 
                                    
                                
                                                But 
                                                rattle 
                                                the 
                                                blues 
                                                from 
                                                me
 
                                    
                                
                                                So 
                                                when 
                                                the 
                                                sun 
                                                comes 
                                                up 
                                                in 
                                                    a 
                                                few 
                                                days 
                                                time
 
                                    
                                
                                                Where 
                                                the 
                                                plains 
                                                are 
                                                wide 
                                                and 
                                                long
 
                                    
                                
                                                I'll 
                                                be 
                                                way 
                                                out 
                                                where 
                                                    a 
                                                man 
                                                can 
                                                shout
 
                                    
                                
                                                Back 
                                                where 
                                                    I 
                                                belong
 
                                    
                                
                                                (Yodels)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Instrumental
 
                                    
                                
                                                I'll 
                                                meet 
                                                old 
                                                Ned 
                                                at 
                                                the 
                                                station 
                                                shed
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                pick 
                                                up 
                                                the 
                                                gear 
                                                    I 
                                                need
 
                                    
                                
                                                Then 
                                                I'll 
                                                stamp 
                                                for 
                                                the 
                                                outer 
                                                camp
 
                                    
                                
                                                With 
                                                the 
                                                boys 
                                                I'll 
                                                share 
                                                    a 
                                                feed
 
                                    
                                
                                                Where 
                                                the 
                                                air 
                                                is 
                                                clear
 
                                    
                                
                                                Once 
                                                again 
                                                I'll 
                                                hear
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                good 
                                                old 
                                                bushman's 
                                                song
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                last 
                                                fire's 
                                                glow
 
                                    
                                
                                                Once 
                                                again 
                                                I'll 
                                                know
 
                                    
                                
                                                Back 
                                                where 
                                                    I 
                                                belong
 
                                    
                                
                                                Now 
                                                the 
                                                wind 
                                                may 
                                                blow 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                brigalow
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                rain 
                                                may 
                                                howl 
                                                and 
                                                fall
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                flies 
                                                may 
                                                swarm 
                                                as 
                                                the 
                                                days 
                                                are 
                                                warm
 
                                    
                                
                                                Won't 
                                                trouble 
                                                me 
                                                at 
                                                all
 
                                    
                                
                                                I'll 
                                                be 
                                                back 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                strife 
                                                and 
                                                the 
                                                kind 
                                                of 
                                                life
 
                                    
                                
                                                You 
                                                take 
                                                it 
                                                as 
                                                it 
                                                comes 
                                                along
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                saddle 
                                                seat 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                dust 
                                                and 
                                                heat
 
                                    
                                
                                                Back 
                                                where 
                                                    I 
                                                belong
 
                                    
                                
                                                (Yodels)
 
                                    
                                 
                            1 Born to Be a Rolling Stone
2 Rovin' Gambler
3 Bumming Around
4 Whiskey Blues
5 May I Sleep in Your Barn Tonight, Mister
6 The Road to Gundagai
7 Three Times Seven
8 Little Blossom
9 Travellin' Guitar
10 Down the Track
11 I'll Be a Bachelor Till I Die
12 Somebody's Mother Tonight
13 Jumpin' the Rattler
14 By A Fire Of Gidgee Coal
15 Song of Australia
16 When You're Short of a Quid
17 Back To The Saltbush Plains
18 Laughter in the Hills
19 Condamine Horse Bell
20 The Bushman's Song
21 Easy Goin' Drifter
22 The Westerway Waltz
23 The Last of the Valley Mail
24 Claypan Boogie
25 Fair Enough
26 Dream Time Voices
27 The Crow
28 Ghosts Of The Golden Mile
29 Back in the Saddle
30 I Must Have Good Terbaccy When I Smoke
31 Hard Hard Country
32 St. Peter
33 Old Man Drought
34 Back Where I Belong
35 Old Beau
36 Old Mates
37 Arcadia Valley
38 Dry Weather Wind
39 Getting Away From It All
40 Casey's Luck
41 Old Tiboob'ra
42 Somewhere Up In Queensland
43 Cattle Camp Crooner
44 Ribs Cooked on the Coals
45 Relics of the Past
46 Paddy Gramp
47 Horse and Hobble Days
48 The Wave Hill Track
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