The Diamantina Drover

Hugh McDonald

The faces in the photographs are faded
and I can't believe he looks so much like me.
For it's been ten long years today
since I left for old Cork Station,
saying I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

For the rain never falls on the Dusty Diamtina.
The drover finds it hard to change his mind.
For the years have surely gone,
like the drays from old Cork Station,
and I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

It seems like the sun comes up each morning,
sets me up and then takes it all away.
For the dreaming by the light
of the campfire at evening
blends with the burning light of day.

For the rain never falls on the Dusty Diamtina.
The drover finds it hard to change his mind.
For the years have surely gone,
like the drays from old Cork Station,
and I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

I sometimes think I'll settle back in Sydney,
but it's been so long and it's hard to change your mind.
For the cattle trays go on and on
and the fences roll forever, and

I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

 For the rain never falls on the Dusty Diamtina.
The drover finds it hard to change his mind.
For the years have surely gone,
like the drays from old Cork Station,
and I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.