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There's a track winding back to an old fashioned shack |
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Along the road to Gundagai |
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Where the blue gums are growing, the Murrumbidgee's flowing |
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Beneath that sunny sky |
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Where my Mummy and Daddy are waiting for me |
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Where the pals of my childhood are waiting for me |
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So no more will I roam till I'm headed right for home |
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On the road to Gundagai |
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There's an old fashioned Ford made of rubber, tin and board |
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Along the road to Gundagai |
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The radiator's hissing, and half the engine's missing |
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The oil tank's running dry |
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There's water in the petrol and sand in the gears |
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And it hasn't seen a garage for more than twenty years |
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But O lord hear the roar when the pedal hits the floor |
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Along the road to Gundagai. |
