Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Droving Woman, artist - Missy Higgins.
Date of issue: 20.08.2020
Song language: English
Droving Woman |
She buried him down on the edge of town |
Where the brigalow suckers on the cemetery creep |
She stood with them children in a heavy brown gown |
What you want you just can’t always keep |
«I'm sorry», I says, «I knew him so well» |
Though your body is young you just never can tell |
When the hand of fate rings the final death knell" |
She just turned with the saddest of smiles |
She says «At the start well we knewed it so hard |
We were always dealt the severest of cards |
Honeymoon spent droving Jamieson’s stock |
Through the wildest winter you seen |
Romantic notions of horses and land |
They were soon dispelled as a fantasised dream |
Watching cattle at night in the mid-winter cold |
Turns a person, both wiry and old |
The flame of the breakfast fire’d be dead |
As the sun rose up he’d be miles up ahead |
I’d be breaking the camp there and rolling the beds |
While he fanned the stock wider for feed |
When the weather turned sour with the onset of rain |
An' the truck’d bog down to the axle mains |
He’d move ahead with pack saddles and chains |
And I’d wait in the mud by the road |
With the blankets and canvas there hung out to dry |
With nothing for heat 'cause you couldn’t light a fire |
With no stock permit for the forthcoming shire |
The dog’d whimper in the winter wind rain |
Cattle don’t camp where they’re sloshing in rain |
They keep walking all night like a dog on a chain |
He’d be red eyed and weary with a pack horse gone lame |
I’d sit miles behind in the mud |
It was down through Charleville up to Julia Creek |
Living on syrup and damper and salted corn meat |
We had nothing but the ‘roos and the mailman to meet |
We’d move up and down with the rains |
But them inland skies have the starriest of nights |
With the dance of the fire throwing flickering lights |
The beauty of it’s sunsets were a constant delight |
I felt that nature had let me intrude |
The enormous vastness of them inland plains |
Gives you a lonely contentment to which you can’t put a name |
It’s satisfied glow city folks seldom attain |
They spend life on a right rigid rail |
The kids got their schooling from the government mail |
We posted their work in at each cattle sale |
They considered the learning a self imposed jail |
They’d rather help their father and fail |
Early last month at the end of the dry |
He was given a horse nobody could ride |
Alert were his ears with a fire in his stride |
He was young and his spirit was wild |
To catch him each morning was an hour long battle |
We had to collar rope his near side to throw on the saddle |
He’d bite and he’d strike, he made my nerves rattle |
Pandemonium reigned with each ride |
It was a hot summers' mornin' at the government bore |
There was stillness around that I’d never felt before |
How could he know it was fate at his door |
That was stealthily watchin' his moves |
He mounted up quick taking slack from the reins |
Grasped a full hand of hair from the horses long mane |
He’d just hit the saddle when the horse went insane |
Churning dust in a frenzy of fear |
The girth on the saddle let go at the ring |
The surcingle slipped it was impossible to cling |
The horse felt it go made a desperate fling |
He was thrown to the length of the reins |
I heard his spine snap like a ‘roo shooters' shot |
He’d busted his back on the concreted trough |
Sickness and fear were the feelings I got |
For the doctor was a six hour drive |
I looked at his face and his colour turned white |
He turned slowly and said «I can’t make it till night |
My body is broken, I’m bleedin' inside» |
And the life slowly drained from his eyes |
I’ll sell up the plant and I’ll move here to town |
Before the winter returns with a chill on the ground |
For what I’ve just lost can seldom be found |
I was blessed with the gentlest of men |
Eventually the children will move to the east |
But I couldn’t stand the bustle of even a quiet city street |
I’ll stay in the scrub here where my heart really beats |
For some dogs grow too old for change. |