The Wave Hill Track Chords by Slim Dusty
Tempo:
91.45 bpm
Chords used:
F
C
Bb
G
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
My thoughts have often wandered [C] to the days that have [F] gone by,
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullets [G] across the [C] Murrinji.
[F] For they told me in the Isaac, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullets [C] came down the [F] Wave Hill track.
Instead of dusty stock routes, [C] deep roads have been [F] put through,
[Bb] And the transports [F] do the drovin' [G] we drovers [C] used to do.
[F] Oh, instead of dusty stockmen, [Bb] with their caught pots [F] on the boil,
[Bb] They have thermos [F] flasks and [C] overalls soaked in [F] grease and oil.
[C] [F] [Bb]
[F]
They don't use bells and hobbles, [C] these trucks don't [F] run that way,
[Bb] They just pull [F] back a lever, [G] and they sit there [C] night and day.
[F] There's no more use for windmills, [Bb] to water the [F] traveling mob,
[Bb] It only [F] takes a billyful [C] to do the [F] drovers' job.
They don't take loads of pucker, [C] like we drovers [F] used to do,
[Bb] A loaf of [F] bread and tin of jam [G] will feed the [C] transport crew.
[F] Oh, imagine the old-time drovers, [Bb] with their whiskers [F] blowin' back,
[Bb] Steering a [F] giant Leyland [C] down the [F] Wave Hill track.
[C] [F]
[Bb] [F] [C] [F]
But I think we'll best forget it, [C] for the trucks now take [F] our place,
[Bb] And the whiskery-faced [F] old drover [G] is just a [C]-dyin' race.
So [F] we'll leave it to the transports, [Bb] and the men with oil [F] and grease,
[Bb] Forget the older [F] old drover, [C] and may he rest [F] in peace.
My thoughts have often wondered, [C] through the days that have [F] gone by,
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullocks, [G] across the [C] Murrungi,
[F] Oh, they told me in the eyes of, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullocks, [C] came down the Wave [F] Hill track.
[C] Down the Wave [F] Hill track.
[N]
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullets [G] across the [C] Murrinji.
[F] For they told me in the Isaac, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullets [C] came down the [F] Wave Hill track.
Instead of dusty stock routes, [C] deep roads have been [F] put through,
[Bb] And the transports [F] do the drovin' [G] we drovers [C] used to do.
[F] Oh, instead of dusty stockmen, [Bb] with their caught pots [F] on the boil,
[Bb] They have thermos [F] flasks and [C] overalls soaked in [F] grease and oil.
[C] [F] [Bb]
[F]
They don't use bells and hobbles, [C] these trucks don't [F] run that way,
[Bb] They just pull [F] back a lever, [G] and they sit there [C] night and day.
[F] There's no more use for windmills, [Bb] to water the [F] traveling mob,
[Bb] It only [F] takes a billyful [C] to do the [F] drovers' job.
They don't take loads of pucker, [C] like we drovers [F] used to do,
[Bb] A loaf of [F] bread and tin of jam [G] will feed the [C] transport crew.
[F] Oh, imagine the old-time drovers, [Bb] with their whiskers [F] blowin' back,
[Bb] Steering a [F] giant Leyland [C] down the [F] Wave Hill track.
[C] [F]
[Bb] [F] [C] [F]
But I think we'll best forget it, [C] for the trucks now take [F] our place,
[Bb] And the whiskery-faced [F] old drover [G] is just a [C]-dyin' race.
So [F] we'll leave it to the transports, [Bb] and the men with oil [F] and grease,
[Bb] Forget the older [F] old drover, [C] and may he rest [F] in peace.
My thoughts have often wondered, [C] through the days that have [F] gone by,
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullocks, [G] across the [C] Murrungi,
[F] Oh, they told me in the eyes of, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullocks, [C] came down the Wave [F] Hill track.
[C] Down the Wave [F] Hill track.
[N]
Key:
F
C
Bb
G
F
C
Bb
G
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
My thoughts have often wandered [C] to the days that have [F] gone by,
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullets [G] across the [C] Murrinji.
[F] For they told me in the Isaac, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullets [C] came down the [F] Wave Hill track.
_ _ _ Instead of dusty stock routes, [C] deep roads have been [F] put through,
[Bb] And the transports [F] do the drovin' [G] we drovers [C] used to do.
[F] Oh, instead of dusty stockmen, [Bb] with their caught pots [F] on the boil,
[Bb] They have thermos [F] flasks and [C] overalls soaked in [F] grease and oil. _ _ _ _
_ _ [C] _ _ [F] _ _ [Bb] _ _
[F] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ They don't use bells and hobbles, [C] these trucks don't [F] run that way,
[Bb] They just pull [F] back a lever, [G] and they sit there [C] night and day.
[F] There's no more use for windmills, [Bb] to water the [F] traveling mob,
[Bb] It only [F] takes a billyful [C] to do the [F] drovers' job.
_ _ _ They don't take loads of pucker, [C] like we drovers [F] used to do,
[Bb] A loaf of [F] bread and tin of jam [G] will feed the [C] transport crew.
[F] Oh, imagine the old-time drovers, [Bb] with their whiskers [F] blowin' back,
[Bb] Steering a [F] giant Leyland [C] down the [F] Wave Hill track. _ _
_ _ _ _ [C] _ _ [F] _ _
[Bb] _ _ [F] _ _ [C] _ _ [F] _ _
_ _ But I think we'll best forget it, [C] for the trucks now take [F] our place,
[Bb] And the whiskery-faced [F] old drover [G] is just a [C]-dyin' race.
So [F] we'll leave it to the transports, [Bb] and the men with oil [F] and grease,
[Bb] Forget the older [F] old drover, [C] and may he rest [F] in peace. _ _ _ _
My thoughts have often wondered, [C] through the days that have [F] gone by,
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullocks, [G] across the [C] Murrungi,
[F] Oh, they told me in the eyes of, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullocks, [C] came down the Wave [F] Hill track. _
[C] Down the Wave [F] Hill track. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _
My thoughts have often wandered [C] to the days that have [F] gone by,
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullets [G] across the [C] Murrinji.
[F] For they told me in the Isaac, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullets [C] came down the [F] Wave Hill track.
_ _ _ Instead of dusty stock routes, [C] deep roads have been [F] put through,
[Bb] And the transports [F] do the drovin' [G] we drovers [C] used to do.
[F] Oh, instead of dusty stockmen, [Bb] with their caught pots [F] on the boil,
[Bb] They have thermos [F] flasks and [C] overalls soaked in [F] grease and oil. _ _ _ _
_ _ [C] _ _ [F] _ _ [Bb] _ _
[F] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ They don't use bells and hobbles, [C] these trucks don't [F] run that way,
[Bb] They just pull [F] back a lever, [G] and they sit there [C] night and day.
[F] There's no more use for windmills, [Bb] to water the [F] traveling mob,
[Bb] It only [F] takes a billyful [C] to do the [F] drovers' job.
_ _ _ They don't take loads of pucker, [C] like we drovers [F] used to do,
[Bb] A loaf of [F] bread and tin of jam [G] will feed the [C] transport crew.
[F] Oh, imagine the old-time drovers, [Bb] with their whiskers [F] blowin' back,
[Bb] Steering a [F] giant Leyland [C] down the [F] Wave Hill track. _ _
_ _ _ _ [C] _ _ [F] _ _
[Bb] _ _ [F] _ _ [C] _ _ [F] _ _
_ _ But I think we'll best forget it, [C] for the trucks now take [F] our place,
[Bb] And the whiskery-faced [F] old drover [G] is just a [C]-dyin' race.
So [F] we'll leave it to the transports, [Bb] and the men with oil [F] and grease,
[Bb] Forget the older [F] old drover, [C] and may he rest [F] in peace. _ _ _ _
My thoughts have often wondered, [C] through the days that have [F] gone by,
[Bb] When I was [F] drovin' bullocks, [G] across the [C] Murrungi,
[F] Oh, they told me in the eyes of, [Bb] just a short [F] time back,
[Bb] That no more [F] walking bullocks, [C] came down the Wave [F] Hill track. _
[C] Down the Wave [F] Hill track. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _ _