| Now the aeroplanes go screaming across the blue skies overhead
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| And the big trucks cross the nation night and day
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| While satellites bring TV to the homesteads in the bush
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| And the limousines replace the horse and dray
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| But our pioneering fathers had no comforts such as these
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| They faced hardship with their women by their side
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| With no wire or nails to help them in the vastness of the bush
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| They built stockyards out of lancewood and greenhide
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| And the cattle walked to market on the stock routes of the west
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| And a man was judged by the way he used to ride
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| And the Afghans with their camels were the road trains of the bush
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| They built a nation out of stringy and greenhide
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| Hey
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| And with stringybark and mud daub they built the old bark hut
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| And the shantys on the roadside by the way
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| Oh they cleared the land and felled the trees with crosscut and the axe
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| And with greenhide whip the bullocky held sway
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| Oh they took their mobs of cattle and their spreading flocks of sheep
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| And no mountain range or desert held them back
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| Oh the battled thirst and heat in their bid to tame this land
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| And the silent watchful ever stalking black
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| And the cattle walked to market on the stock routes of the west
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| And a man was judged by the way he used to ride
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| And the Afghans with their camels were the road trains of the bush
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| They built a nation out of stringy and greenhide
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| Hey
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| When no barbed wire bound the wide domains of the western cattle runs
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| And the men were as wild as the land they used to roam
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| Oh the greenhide rope and bridle were the stockmen’s tools of trade
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| And a stringybark bush shelter was their home
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| And when fine young men rode walers off to fight their countries war
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| And made history with their suffering and their pain
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| Oh they wrote the name Australia in the headlines of the world
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| Will this country ever see their likes again? |