Текст песни When the Rains Tumble Down in July - Slim Dusty
                                                Let 
                                                me 
                                                wander 
                                                north 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                homestead,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Way 
                                                out 
                                                further 
                                                on 
                                                there 
                                                to 
                                                roam,
 
                                    
                                
                                                By 
                                                    a 
                                                gully 
                                                in 
                                                flood, 
                                                let 
                                                me 
                                                linger,
 
                                    
                                
                                                When 
                                                the 
                                                summery 
                                                sunshine 
                                                has 
                                                flown.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Where 
                                                the 
                                                logs 
                                                tangle 
                                                up 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                creek 
                                                beds,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                clouds 
                                                fill 
                                                the 
                                                old 
                                                northern 
                                                sky,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                cattle 
                                                move 
                                                back 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                lowlands,
 
                                    
                                
                                                When 
                                                the 
                                                rain 
                                                tumbles 
                                                down 
                                                in 
                                                July.
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                settlers 
                                                with 
                                                sad 
                                                hearts 
                                                are 
                                                watching,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                rise 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                stream 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                dawn,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Their 
                                                best 
                                                crops 
                                                are 
                                                always 
                                                in 
                                                flood 
                                                reach,
 
                                    
                                
                                                If 
                                                it 
                                                rises 
                                                much 
                                                more 
                                                they'll 
                                                be 
                                                gone.
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                cattle 
                                                string 
                                                out 
                                                along 
                                                the 
                                                fences,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                wind 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                south 
                                                races 
                                                by,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                limbs 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                old 
                                                gums 
                                                are 
                                                fallen,
 
                                    
                                
                                                When 
                                                the 
                                                rain 
                                                tumbles 
                                                down 
                                                in 
                                                July.
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                sleeping 
                                                gums 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                hillside,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Awaken 
                                                to 
                                                herds 
                                                strayin' 
                                                by,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Here 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                flats 
                                                where 
                                                the 
                                                fences 
                                                have 
                                                vanished,
 
                                    
                                
                                                As 
                                                the 
                                                storm 
                                                clouds 
                                                gather 
                                                on 
                                                high.
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                wheels 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                wagons 
                                                stop 
                                                turning,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                stock 
                                                horse 
                                                is 
                                                turned 
                                                out 
                                                to 
                                                stray,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                old 
                                                station 
                                                dogs 
                                                are 
                                                a-dozin',
 
                                    
                                
                                                On 
                                                the 
                                                husks 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                barn 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                day.
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                drover 
                                                draws 
                                                rein 
                                                by 
                                                the 
                                                river,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                it's 
                                                years 
                                                since 
                                                he's 
                                                seen 
                                                it 
                                                so 
                                                high,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yes 
                                                and 
                                                that's 
                                                just 
                                                    a 
                                                story 
                                                of 
                                                homeward,
 
                                    
                                
                                                When 
                                                the 
                                                rain 
                                                tumbles 
                                                down 
                                                in 
                                                July.
 
                                    
                                
                            1 Springtime On the Range
2 A Song of Granny
3 My Happy Valley Home
4 You Made Me Live Love and Die
5 How Can I Smile When I'm Lonely
6 I Bet You Feel the Same
7 Lover's Lament
8 Soldier's Wife
9 When the Rains Tumble Down in July
10 My Aussie Home
11 Give Me One More Chance
12 Heading for That Brumby Trail
13 My Faded Dream
14 Sun Valley Rose
15 Been A Fool Too Long
16 Happy Drover
17 My Moonlight Trail to You
18 Stay Away From Me
19 Modern Yodeling Song
20 Sat'day in the Saddle
21 You Don't Know How Sad I Feel
22 My Pony Whipstick
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