My thoughts have often wandered to the days that have gone by
When I was drovin bullocks across the Murranji
Oh ho they told me in the Isa just a short time back

That no more walking bullocks came down the wave hill track

Instead of dusty stock routes beef roads have been put through

And the transports do the droving we drovers used to do
Oh instead of dusty stockman with their quart pots on the boil
They have thermos flask and overalls soaked in grease in and oil


Guitar Solo


They dont use bells and hobbles these trucks dont run that way
They just pull back a lever and they sit there night and day
Theres no more use for windmills who water the traveling mob

It only takes a billy full to do the drovers job

They dont take loads of tucker like we drovers used to do

A loaf of bread a tin of jam will feed the transport crew
Find more similar lyrics on Oh imagine the old time drovers with their whiskers blowing back
Steering a giant Leyland down the wave hill track


Guitar Solo


But I think well best forget it for the trucks now take our place
And the whiskery faced old drover is just a dyin race
Se well leave it to the transports and the men with oil and grease

Forget the old road drover and may he rest in peace

My thoughts have often wandered to the days that have gone by

When I was drovin bullocks across the Murranji
Oh ho they told me in the Isa just a short time back
That no more walking bullocks came down the wave hill track

Down the wave hill track.