Just above the
Archer, where the wild
scrub cattle run,
There's a little wisp of
smoke in the air.
From a corrugated station house, the
Jacksons call their home,
Near the cattle yards down
there in the gully
Granny
Dawn will greet you just as sweet as
apple pie
With a cake and king -size
kettle on the boil
She drags the rusty gate with
a welcome in her eye
She loves her little gun,
you're in the gully
They don't wear no
shoes unless they saddle
up a horse or take the shopping
wagon into town.
But it's a long way to
Weeper, we can
wait another week till the dust from the master settles down.
You're duckin' in the doorway
if you're nearly six foot tall
The beams of stringy bark are pretty low
Billy hangs his hat on
the longhorns on the
wall
A cool siesta down there in the gully
And the old brown cooker
smokes the kitchen sooty black
And wild pigs eat the
mangoes in the yard
But
Granny finds it easy just to leave it
as it is
She loves her little gun here in the gully
And, oh, she says it's getting cold,
it's twenty -five de grees
But she's got special jam drops in her jar
And grandkids gather round,
little hands around
the cocoa
They love her little gun,
you're in the gully
Just when you were thinkin' that
the good old days were gone
There's
Granny's little gun here in the gully
you