All My Mates Are Gone - Slim Dusty

The muscles in these arms have gone weak now,

They wouldn’t hold a horse anymore,

But girl, these hands were there when history formed its pages,

Back when this country was still ragged, rough and raw.

Yes I’ve sat tight on the best my girl,

Back when the fire of youth be proudly in my breast,

Back when this body, now broken, down and useless

Could ride all day and ring it with the best.

Girl, I was droving on the Birdsville Track,

When instinct was a man’s only guide,

Where if you lost your bearings, the sand hills claimed your carcas.

When the sun had played the life of your hide.

I thank you girl, for list’nin' to this broken ringer’s ravings,

Another sunrise girl, I’ll never know,

My mind is projecting a film of years long gone,

And I’m watching now my last picture show.

Once again I see the blackened core pots boiling,

I can taste again the strong black billy tea,

Taste the damper from the ashes, smell the rib bones on the coal,

See the saddle 'neath the tough old mulga tree.

I can hear the cattle bellow and the cracking of the whips,

Again the harness jangles in these ears,

I smell the smell of well oiled leather, feel the comfort of my swag,

As my memory races back across the years.

And there across the desert, a lonely team of camels,

Stretches slowly across the brightness of the sand,

And there’s old Gool Mohammad, Charlie and Gerard,

Nose leads hanging loosely in their hand.

I can see the brumbies buckin', as Bob the breaker tries,

Once again to gain another working hack,

And there’s old «One-eyed Willie» the best tailor in the north,

These were the men that made the great outback.

So I thank you girl for list’nin' to this broken ringer’s ravings,

There’s no regrets, in fact I’m glad to go,

Old ringers are a breed that your world doesn’t need,

And I’ll be glad to do some skitin' with those mates from long ago.

There’s no one left who knew me girl when I had you to smile upon,

I’ve lost all my identity, 'cause all my mates are gone.