| I just called in to the city of Mount Isa,
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| The old black road from the coast was hot and long,
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| And the first mate that I met here, in the Isa,
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| Took my hand and said «mate welcome home».
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| The sun is hot but the beer is cold at the Isa
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| An oasis in this big red endless land,
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| I’ve always found such friendship in the Isa,
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| Like «welcome back and let me take your hand.»
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| The first time that I came to this old city,
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| I stayed two weeks and showed in a big marquee,
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| And today I’m drivin' 'round to view the changes,
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| Oh there’s a highway now where the old tent used to be.
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| But the first time that I showed here at the Isa,
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| I knew for many years that I’d come back,
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| Fresh vegetables and fruit came from their gardens,
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| Just something to help us further down the track. |
| Hey!
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| Across the black salt plains of western Queensland,
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| Though the roads are sealed its hot and still hard work,
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| Thirty years ago it was a little different,
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| Corrugation on long tracks of endless dirt
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| You were always glad to reach this friendly city,
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| Where mateship never left you on your own,
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| And today when I arrived I felt that mateship,
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| When an old friend warmly said, «Welcome home».
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| So I just came back to my room here at the motel,
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| To try and write a song and be alone,
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| Just something someone says will get you started,
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| Like when he waves and said «Welcome home». |
| Oh Yeah!
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| Yeah I’ve just come back to the city of Mt Isa,
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| And the old black road from the coast was hot and long,
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| Yeah the first mate that I met here in the Isa,
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| Took my hand and said «Mate welcome home.» |