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Slim Dusty lyrics : "Mackenzie Country"

There's a story that you're bound to hear if you're down Otago way,
About an outlaw and his dog that brought him fame,
Of an ancient Maori trail through a grassy mountain vale,

To the rugged land that bears Mackenzie's name.

Old Mackenzie so the story goes rode the ranges on a steer,

Pre-selecting squatters sheep and when he's done,
He would send his collie pup to go back and round them up,
And drive them homeward to his mountain run.


Where the campfires are a-blazin' and the drovin' men are lazin',
Fortified with hokonui mountain grub,

There's a story in the makin' that's perhaps a little fakin',
As they weave the legend round Mackenzie's dog.


So the troopers set out on the trail to bring Mackenzie back for trial,
And recapture all those mozzie faces too,
And they captured him at last in a rugged mountain pass,

And he went before the judge in Timaru.

There was no sign of repentance when Mackenzie heard his sentence,

But the last words rung from him a dreadful cry,
He defied the law and told them that no prison bars would hold him,
When the judge condemned his faithful dog to die.


Now there's city folk who'd swear that old Mackenzie and his dog,
Were a pair of devils lapped in hair and hide,

But along the Maori trails where the campfires fairly blaze
You can hear the shearers speak his name with pride.


Where the campfires are a-blazin' and the drovin' men are lazin',
Fortified with hokonui mountain grub,
There's a story in the makin' that's perhaps a little fakin',

As they weave the legend round Mackenzie's dog.

[From his album: “Australiana”

Transcribed: Marten Busstra 2011]

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