Slim Dusty - End of the canning stock route

^GThe camp gear’s in the store room, all the packs are in the shed ^CWith the dust of seven summers on thei^Gr hide ^GSaddle straps are hard and brittle stirrup irons are rusty red For the^A7 canning stock route finished when wally dowli^Dng died No more ^Gcattle travel southward thro the spinifex and sand ^CAll the wells are falling in along the ^Gtrack Now the cannings but a^B7 legend just a l^Conely desert land And it’s doubtf^Gul if the munj^Dongs want it^G back

^GEight hundred miles of sandhills now and then a sandstone ridge ^CWith a salt lake here and there with samphire^G flat ^GAn oasis in the desert you can find at durba springs ^A7Bubbling, running water it’s a ^Dfact But unles^Gs you own a camel you could never travel there ^CAnd a horse would fail now the wells have f^Gallen in For the sandhills on t^B7he canning, reach a hundred ^Cfeet or more And it’s ce^Grtain that no ^Dcar could take y^Gou in

^GThe famous never never and the place they call outback ^CTwo elusive lands that few men ev^Ger found ^GAre located on the canning down that lonely desert track Where ^A7to be this very moment would be worth a thousan^Dd pound To b^Ge with wally dowling, whipping water from the well ^CWhile the stockmen hold the mob back from the ^Gtrough Stop the thi^B7rsty bullocks trampling in their g^Creat desire to drink Ju^Gst to do one trip wo^Duld suit me well e^Gnough

^GBut my wish is just a daydream which can never be fulfilled ^CFor when wally died the stock route ^Ghad its day ^GNow the billiluna cattle are travelling down to broome In a r^A7oaring diesel road train to the meat works by th^De bay ^GAnd the tick line stops the others every station in the north ^CNo one may use the canning if he ^Gwould So they truck their beef to ^B7wyndham and sell^C for what its worth An^Gd i doubt they’d use th^De canning if th^Gey could

^GIt’s really had its day now and won’t be used again ^CNo more drovers horse bells ringin will b^Ge heard ^GFor a cattle loaded road train smothered in its diesel fumes No^A7w struggles up the rise in lower^D third ^GWhen i travel up the canning i am sure to be alone ^CWith my camels and some thoughts of ^Gyesterday They will take me slowly nor^B7thward till at last t^Che trip is done An^Gd find contentment when^D i’ve stowed the p^Gacks away ^GThe camp gear’s in the store room, all the packs are in the shed ^CWith the dust of seven summers on t^Gheir hide ^GSaddle straps are hard and brittle stirrup irons are rusty red For the^A7 canning stock route finished wh^Cen wally ^Ddowling ^Gdied