These three songs describe to the tee how I feel Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing-out parade at PuckapunyalIt was a long march from cadets.The sixth battalion was the next to tour, and it was me who drew the card.We did Canungra, Shoalwater before we left. And Townsville lined the footpaths as we marched down to the quayThis clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.And theres me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.God help me, I was only nineteen. From Vung Tau, riding Chinooks, to the dust at Nui DatId been in and out of choppers now for months.But we made our tents a home, VB and pinups on the lockersAnd an Asian orange sunset through the scrub. And can you tell me, doctor, why I stil cant get to sleep?And night-times just a jungle dark and a barking M16?And whats this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?God help me, I was only ninteen. A four week operation when each step could mean your last one on two legsIt was a war within yourself.But you wouldnt let your mates down til they had you dusted offSo you closed your eyes and thought about something else. Then someone yelled out Contact! and the bloke behind me sworeWe hooked in there for hours, then a Godalmighty roarFrankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon,God help me, he was going home in June. I can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand HotelOn a thirty-six hour rec leave in Vung TauAnd I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungleTil the morphine came and killed the bloody row. And the Anzac legends didnt mention mud and blood and tearsAnd the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real.I caught some pieces in my back that I didnt even feelGod help me, I was only nineteen. And can you tell me, doctor, why I still cant get to sleep?And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?And whats this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?God help me, I was only nineteen. I was only 19 by redgum its a plume of dust down an old dirt roadand hanging off the rails at the rodeoa back verandah with creaking boardsand the dark range of a thunderstormits the stockmans bar at an old bush puband chasing mickeys though the scrubits planting seeds and praying for rainand the red dust running through your veinsits the way it is, its the way it goeswhen my wheels hit the gravel road it feels like homeits the way of life, its the life i liveand Im right where i want to bethats the way it isits a corrugated iron shedand work boots on the backdoor stepscones in the oven and preserves in jars talking prices at the saleyardsits long straight roads and one horse townsand sheep dogs bringing the mob aroundits shell be right and having a goits good on ya mate and what do ya know?Its the way it is, its the way it goeswhen my wheels hit the gravel road it feels like homeits the way of life, its the life i liveand Im right where i want to bethats the way it isits the eerie still in the grey of dawnfields of wheat and rows of corna rusty tank and flaking painta weary digger on ANZAC day its the dreamtime land and uluruaborigine didgeridooits battered hats and calloused handsthe spirit of a hard won landIts the way it is, its the way it goeswhen my wheels hit the gravel road it feels like homeits the way of life, oh its the life i liveand Im right where i want to beThe patch of ground in you and methats the way it isIts just the way it isThats the way it isYeah that the way it is The way it is lee kernaghan Hes staring down the barrel Of another desperate day Pulls on his boots He cant walk away Hes running on empty Hes knocked about and bent But hell still be standing When the river runs again Is the spirit in the rock? Or pass the hat around Is it freedom on the Wallaby? Or a dusty patch of ground Is it waltzing Matilda? Or a hand upon your shoulder Is this, the spirit of the bush? She stares at empty cupboards Just like the day before Its been so long She cant take it anymore But she digs a little deeper And somehow finds the strength She keeps believeing There will be better days ahead Chorus Is the spirit in the rock? Or pass the hat around Is it freedom on the Wallaby? Or a dusty patch of ground Is it waltzing Matilda? Or a hand upon your shoulder Is this, the spirit of the bush? Was it there when young Ned Kelly Stood up for those oppressed Or when the brave young ANZACS Put their courage to the test Or is it out there with the battler When he gives it one last try Through the darkest moments You see the spirit shine Is the spirit in the rock? Or pass the hat around Is it freedom on the Wallaby? Or a dusty patch of ground Is it waltzing Matilda? Or a hand upon your shoulder Is this, the spirit of the bush? Is the spirit in the rock? Or pass the hat around Is it freedom on the Wallaby? Or a dusty patch of ground Is it waltzing Matilda? Or a hand upon your shoulder Is this, the spirit of the bush? Spirit of the bush lee kernaghan
Posted on: Wed, 06 Nov 2013 07:51:22 +0000
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