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Up his long red road she came
With water and a torch
The Micks had got the flick
And he was waiting on the porch

She worked a standard farm day
And the kitchen was a mess
So she cleaned and cleaned and shifted things
And that’s when he confessed

He liked that she could run for gates
And jump from a moving ute
But there wasn’t time to trim the dams
To save the weak and cute

Plus any attempt to clean his house
Or shift a thing or three
Would result in a one-way train ride
Back on the Wendouree

Now we all know that women
Are prone to shedding tears
But at that moment, all his mothballs
Fused with her worst fear

I’m going home! she bellowed
I miss my inside dogs!
When next you come to visit me,
you can pick up all their bogs!

Back in the inner West, they danced
There’s nothing more charming than a country romance
She loves him to bits
And they both like the land
The house is a mess
But she’ll give him a hand

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