its a plume of dust down an old dirt road and hanging off the rails at the rodeo a back verandah with creaking boards and the dark range of a thunderstorm its the stockmans bar at an old bush pub and chasing mickey's though the scrub its planting seeds and praying for rain and the red dust runing through your veins
CHORUS: its the way it is, its the way it goes when my wheels hit the gravel road it feels like home its the way of life, its the life i live and im right where i want to be thats the way it is
its a corrugated iron shed and work boots on a backdoor step scones in the oven and preserves in jars talking prces at the saleyards its long straight roads and one horse towns and sheep dogs bringing the mob around its she'll be right and having a go its good on ya mate and what do ya know?
REPEAT CHROUS
its the eerie still in the grey of dawn feilds of wheat and rows of corn a rusty tank and flaking paint a weary digger on ANZAC day its the dreamtime land and uluru aborigine didgeridoo its batterd hats and calloused hands the spirit of a hard won land