| Camping under the leopardwood
|
| As the sun goes down and the fire’s good
|
| And I’ve managed to find myself some briggle
|
| And it wouldn’t be the same i know
|
| Contemplating the fire glow
|
| Without my darling out here on the road
|
| Now it’s a very special thing
|
| To hear the little cricket sing
|
| There’s no need to say another word
|
| Just watch the campfire steal the show
|
| Let the inner feelings flow
|
| Release the tension out here on the road
|
| We must never let them take this life away
|
| Old stock routes belong to one and all
|
| Drovers, dreamers all agree
|
| Poets have origin heres have a right to light a campfire on the road
|
| Some people like a riverbed
|
| With river guns high overhead
|
| Unroll the swag on a driving riverside
|
| But me i search for different sites
|
| Not afraid of mid men lights
|
| I welcome spirits out here on the road
|
| And i welcome any sites i see
|
| And it’s been so good to me
|
| That leads me to the souls of any man
|
| And i can tell you there are days
|
| I see the Earth in different ways
|
| It keeps me searching out here on the road
|
| We must never let them take this life away
|
| Old stock routes belong to one and all
|
| Drovers, dreamers all agree
|
| Poets have origin heres have a right to light a campfire on the road
|
| We must never let them take this life away
|
| Old stock routes belong to one and all
|
| Drovers, dreamers all agree
|
| Poets have origin heres have a right to light a campfire on the road
|
| Camping under the leopardwood
|
| As the sun goes down and the fire’s good
|
| And i’ve managed to find myself some briggle
|
| And it wouldn’t be the same i know
|
| Contemplating the fire glow
|
| Without my darling out here on the road
|
| We must never let them take this life away
|
| Old stock routes belong to one and all
|
| Drovers, dreamers all agree
|
| Poets have origin heres have a right to light a campfire on the road
|
| We have a right to light a campfire on the road |