Slim Dusty & The Travelling Country Band
where country is
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He sat by the door of the grand old Birdsville Pub
His swag and gear were guarded by a faithful healer dog
He wore a shirt that would blind you and a rumpled ringers hat
This old man was country he left no doubt of that
He sat there Hillbilly Pickin' on a scratched and battered Gibson
And the songs that he sang were all true
Every song told a story and the
more that I listened the more I realised
This is where country is