The night I was guest in the Ballroom,
Oh the big city mansion so fine,
They introduced me to the host then,
And a brown calloused hand shook mine,
In a room locked away from the party,
We unders the night hours wained,
And in fancy we left the big city,
And camped once again on the plain.
There's a saddle an' bridle an' port pot,
And a swag roll packed neatly away,
With hobbles and houlters an' moleskins,
All ready to use some day,
A stockman hat covered with red dust,
The spurrs on the shelf up above,
No one had touched them or dust them,
For it's dust from the country he loves.
[Yodel and Instrumental]
He said he was from the bad country,
And he didn't belong to the town,
He stayed for the sake of the family,
Seems sad to see him hobble down,
Just give him one chance and he'd leave it,
His gear was all ready to go,
And some day he'd pack up and travel,
To the land where the gidgee trees grow.
There's a saddle an' bridle an' port pot,
And a swag roll packed neatly away,
With hobbles and houlters an' moleskins,
All ready to use some day,
A stockman hat covered with red dust,
The spurrs on the shelf up above,
No one had touched them or dust them,
For it's dust from the country he loves.
[Yodel]
----------------------------------
From his album: "Songs From the Land I Love"
Oh the big city mansion so fine,
They introduced me to the host then,
And a brown calloused hand shook mine,
In a room locked away from the party,
We unders the night hours wained,
And in fancy we left the big city,
And camped once again on the plain.
There's a saddle an' bridle an' port pot,
And a swag roll packed neatly away,
With hobbles and houlters an' moleskins,
All ready to use some day,
A stockman hat covered with red dust,
The spurrs on the shelf up above,
No one had touched them or dust them,
For it's dust from the country he loves.
[Yodel and Instrumental]
He said he was from the bad country,
And he didn't belong to the town,
He stayed for the sake of the family,
Seems sad to see him hobble down,
Just give him one chance and he'd leave it,
His gear was all ready to go,
And some day he'd pack up and travel,
To the land where the gidgee trees grow.
There's a saddle an' bridle an' port pot,
And a swag roll packed neatly away,
With hobbles and houlters an' moleskins,
All ready to use some day,
A stockman hat covered with red dust,
The spurrs on the shelf up above,
No one had touched them or dust them,
For it's dust from the country he loves.
[Yodel]
----------------------------------
From his album: "Songs From the Land I Love"