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In His Blood Colin Buchanan It’s an early start but that’s nothing new Making tracks through the heavy dew He’s got black dog Betty Man’s best friend Get the ewes in the yard Get the wethers penned CHORUS Tony sees the Sons of the Country Colin Buchanan He drives a red and yellow taxi down George Street He knows this city like it was his own But he talks about a life beyond the ranges And he dreams about the big sky of home Chorus... Kurrajong Colin Buchanan In his annexe made of besser bricks and corrugated iron I can hear the roar of footy on a Saturday afternoon Kurrajong’s got his slippers on and he sips a mug of coffee And he’s glad to share the Uncle Viv Colin Buchanan Just what got me in I’m not quite sure, The hat with the Legacy badges Or the tales about the war? Rocko Colin Buchanan We searched out a quiet corner of the Middle Bre Hotel A couple of dudes from out of town and it wasn't hard to tell A fella with an old guitar Who'd been playing in the public bar Gave a gappy smile When it rained Colin Buchanan He moved away to college And he made some city friends Who’d only seen in picture books What he’d done on the land And the lazy small-town goings-on Seemed to lose their glow But once it’s in your Chook Colin Buchanan I wandered up, made his acquaintance He pushed his glasses up on his nose He kicked the tyres on his six-wheeled pushbike And rubbed his aching toes "Got a flat. Flamin' catheads." The Measure of a Man Colin Buchanan Chorus The measure of a man isn't found In the dollars in his pocket Or in where he lives in town It's what lies deep within Past the colour of his skin When we look there we begin to understand Adelago Colin Buchanan Cockatoos call in the morning Surf crashes on the golden sand It's 5 hours from the dust and the paddocks On the edge of the big brown land He's missing that farm under Sugarloaf Mountain There's Handyman Colin Buchanan Alex and his brother Paul Put a power point in the wall A simple job, no need for brains They wired it up, turned on the mains Now all that’s left are charred remains Anyone can be a handyman ... That Old Caravan Colin Buchanan They hitched up that old caravan in 1963 They drove a big black Zephyr They were young and they were free Pointed southwards with a tailwind And no particular plan Just a young bloke and his new The Bimbi Talent Quest Colin Buchanan tonight Will never be repeated They’ve dome from all around the joint To try and be the best At the Annual Bimbi Amateur Talent Quest They planned to use the local hall to stage the big event But in He Waits Colin Buchanan They met in the summer of 1958, A hometown girl with stars in her eyes He came from out of town to work in the mill, She found what she was looking for And he, he found a wife. Harvest Colin Buchanan The crops have just started to turn golden brown, Patches of green on retreat The last of the spring rains have swollen the grain Harvest will soon be here Ron took delivery of his header last The Wanaaring Road Colin Buchanan Old Bob McLeod's been driving road trains From dusty stations all out that way He's got bad teeth cause all his fillings Have rattled loose on the Wanaaring Road Chorus 4. The Birdsville Races Colin Buchanan 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 Chorus They're 30 deep in the street By the pub Singlets Blue Colin Buchanan wethers buck and kick and pull; Double money for an angry ram, An aching back from a gentle lamb And eyes peeled for a bare-bellied ewes CHORUS So bend that back, Shear that wool, It’s forty in Frank the Scab Colin Buchanan Frank had 7 kids and a 20 stone wife They lived on the frowned on side of town A simple sort of life He’s had a council job since ‘74 Kept the food in the belly and the wolf from the door And gave Living in Town Colin Buchanan You took the good with the bad And watched the boys growing - They soon would be men But their lives were their own No heart for farming And a beckoning road ... they left you CHORUS Living in Jingle Bells Colin Buchanan Dashing through the bush In a rusty Holden ute Kicking up the dust Esky in the boot Kelpie by my side Singing Christmas songs It’s summertime and I am in My singlet, shorts and thongs CHORUS Tough Job Colin Buchanan Heading road trains west of the Warrego River Pigging in the lyginum on the Barcoo Drilling for oil in the Strezleki Desert Or shipping the wool clip out Pokataroo Chorus... Come What May Colin Buchanan And we're not entirely certain just how the fires began But when the flames had finally passed And we saw all that we’d lost We weren’t about to bid it all farewell Cos there’s been fire before in North Bourke Bridge Colin Buchanan There’s sunshine in the south-east There’s rain to the north-westAnd Gundabooka’s brewing up a storm The sleeping Bogan River Winds its gentle track And the locals said they knew that I’d be back Fields of Green Colin Buchanan Let it be our little secret, my love This pledge that no witness shall see This promise of love that will live though we part Declared in these fields of green Let only these clouds cast their shadows By the Barwon Colin Buchanan It was a week of weather over 40 The dogs were panting in the peppercorn shade The heat was roasting the little town By the Barwon 2. The Heroes of the Flames Colin Buchanan In the bush and in the suburbs We watched the tragedy unfold For every tale of courage A thousand went untold Battered and exhausted Caked in dirt and sweat Relentless in the battle Saving others Jincumbilly Colin Buchanan There's no train into Jincumbilly There's no cattle in the yard There's no shearers standing Smoking on the platform Taking in the sunshine with the guard There's no work gang there at Jincumbilly Smaller Every Year Colin Buchanan There were young folk In the church hall In the old days They packed them in There was laughter There was singing It's a different story now ... Here One Moment Colin Buchanan I love this house I built this house We raised our children here The walls have shared the tumult In the passing of the years But we lost it all last Saturday In the crackle and the roar Our home No Place like Home Colin Buchanan The moon lit the mountains bathed them in light The patchwork of paddocks spread forth in the night And whatever it was that had drawn him away Was forgotten, was gone...