Well I've ripped and dug out burrows on a sandy bulloak hill, Eradicating rabbits doesn't take a lot of skill But a boy born in the Mallee doesn't find 'em hard to kill No self-respecting farmer lets a rodent eat his wheat He'll shoot 'em and he'll skin 'em and he'll dress 'em up to eat But since the spread of mixo He's almost got 'em beat And I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee boy Where little town dogs howl at the morning train, Where a cocky makes a living on twelve inches of rain Where his woman provides and is rare to complain And I still love the smell of that sandy soil, Some say it's dusty, some say it's gold Cause it grows the sweetest fat lambs the markets ever sold And I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy, No I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy. Where you can lose an ear on duck opening day, Where slickers bring their shotguns from miles away, And shoot the life out of shags and swans that fly their way. Where a bloke grows as stocky as a Mallee bull, Where they come from miles around to see the tractor pull, When the paddocks are clean and seed silos are full, And I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy. Well I've ripped and dug out burrows on a sandy bulloak hill, Eradicating rabbits doesn't take a lot of skill, And a boy born in the Mallee doesn't find 'em hard to kill. But they'll never be as rare as a Quandong tree My grandma made some jam for my brothers and me They're like the Mallee Fowl you hardly ever see But I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy. No I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy. No I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
