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Mt Isa Mine

Words and Music by Ben Scott © 2010

At fourteen years my father took us across the world
Leaving us in a foreign land in the worst depression times
So I jumped a rattler bound out west, young and strong and penniless
And I wound up in a mount Isa Mine

My English eyes saw only drought and poverty
And my hands were often raw and belly often empty
So I took my rest under foreign stars, camped in leaky railway cars
And shook off dreams of home across the sea

And all across the land these promises of something better
To mouth from hand we swore that we, we would keep on travelling on

A hungry man I came to Bowen town one day
And I spied a cargo ship unloading in the bay
So I stole up to the galleyway and I asked a man “sir any left”
And he scraped me up a meal of rice and curry

And in Quandialla I was station cook for a spell
And every thing I did I tried to do it well
Up to my eyes in flies and blood, the bearded men and the dust and mud
In the roughest land that bred the roughest men


A restless youth I went to where the work was found
From the east coast to the western mining towns
It was nickel tin, copper coal, open cut or down a hole
I crossed this land two times and back again

And now I’ve found pretty young girl in Sydney
And I’ve jumped my last goods train I’m glad to say
We’ve tickets to Broken Hill town, this time to settle down
And write our place in a nation’s history

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