| So many people look at the bog
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| As a place that just lies dead
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| Nothing to do for the body
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| Nothing to do for the head
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| Take me where the heather and the moss grows
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| The turf lies row after row
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| Out there in the sun to dry
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| I breathe it in as I pedal on by
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| With the kids and the dogs mucking together
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| Bringing in the turf
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| No matter what the weather
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| I’m a bogman
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| Deep down, it’s where I come from…
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| I’d love to see Arizona
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| Or the West Australian sands
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| But my heart belongs to those precious wetlands
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| No matter where your travelling takes you
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| Sure the bog will never leave you
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| Some people look for God above
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| Down in the bog I found love
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| Where the heather and the moss grows
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| The turf lies row after row
|
| Out there in the sun to dry
|
| I breathe it in as I pedal on by
|
| With the kids and the dogs mucking together
|
| Bringing in the turf
|
| No matter what the weather
|
| I’m a bogman
|
| Deep down, it’s where I come from…
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| Think about it
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| You love a cuppa tea by the turf fire
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| Your arms around your heart’s desire
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| The two of you looking out at the midland night
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| At the shooting stars and the satellites
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| Turf smell warms hearts
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| 'Til the huggin' and the kissin' starts
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| Bog love surrounds you
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| A beautiful place to come to
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| I’m a bogman
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| Deep down, it’s where I come from… |