Tom: Em
G
The camp gear’s in the store room, all the packs are in the shed
C G
With the dust of seven summers on their hide
G
Saddle straps are hard and brittle stirrup irons are rusty red
A7 D
For the canning stock route finished when wally dowling died
G
No more cattle travel southward thro the spinifex and sand
C G
All the wells are falling in along the track
B7 C
Now the cannings but a legend just a lonely desert land
G D G
And it’s doubtful if the munjongs want it back
[Verse]
G
Eight hundred miles of sandhills now and then a sandstone ridge
C G
With a salt lake here and there with samphire flat
G
An oasis in the desert you can find at durba springs
A7 D
Bubbling, running water it’s a fact
G
But unless you own a camel you could never travel there
C G
And a horse would fail now the wells have fallen in
B7 C
For the sandhills on the canning, reach a hundred feet or more
G D G
And it’s certain that no car could take you in
[Verse]
G
The famous never never and the place they call outback
C G
Two elusive lands that few men ever found
G
Are located on the canning down that lonely desert track
A7 D
Where to be this very moment would be worth a thousand pound
G
To be with wally dowling, whipping water from the well
C G
While the stockmen hold the mob back from the trough
B7 C
Stop the thirsty bullocks trampling in their great desire to drink
G D G
Just to do one trip would suit me well enough
[Verse]
G
But my wish is just a daydream which can never be fulfilled
C G
For when wally died the stock route had its day
G
Now the billiluna cattle are travelling down to broome
A7 D
In a roaring diesel road train to the meat works by the bay
G
And the tick line stops the others every station in the north
C G
No one may use the canning if he would
B7 C
So they truck their beef to wyndham and sell for what its worth
G D G
And i doubt they’d use the canning if they could
[Verse]
G
It’s really had its day now and won’t be used again
C G
No more drovers horse bells ringin will be heard
G
For a cattle loaded road train smothered in its diesel fumes
A7 D
Now struggles up the rise in lower third
G
When i travel up the canning i am sure to be alone
C G
With my camels and some thoughts of yesterday
B7 C
They will take me slowly northward till at last the trip is done
G D G
And find contentment when i’ve stowed the packs away
G
The camp gear’s in the store room, all the packs are in the shed
C G
With the dust of seven summers on their hide
G
Saddle straps are hard and brittle stirrup irons are rusty red
A7 C D G
For the canning stock route finished when wally dowling died
