The Wave Hill Track

My thoughts have often wandered to the days that have gone by
When I was drovin' bullocks across the Murranji
Oh they told me in the Isa, just a short time back
That no more walking bullocks came down the wave hill track
Instead of dusty stock routes beef roads have been put through
And the transports do the droving we drovers used to do
Oh instead of dusty stockman with their quart pots on the boil
They have thermos flask and overalls soaked in grease and oil
Instrumental
They don't use bells and hobbles these trucks don't run that way
They just pull back a lever and they sit there night and day
There's no more use for windmills who water the traveling mob
It only takes a billy full to do the drovers job
They don't take loads of tucker like we drovers used to do
A loaf of bread and tin of jam will feed the transport crew
Oh imagine the old time drovers with their whiskers blowing back
Steering a giant Leyland down the wave hill track
Instrumental
But I think we'll best forget it for the trucks now take our place
And the whiskery faced old drover is just a dyin' race
Se we'll leave it to the transports and the men with oil and grease
Forget the old road drover and may he rest in peace
My thoughts have often wandered to the days that have gone by
When I was drovin' bullocks across the Murranji
Oh they told me in the Isa just a short time back
That no more walking bullocks came down the wave hill track
Down the wave hill track