Where Country Is Chords by Slim Dusty
Tempo:
86.575 bpm
Chords used:
Bb
F
Eb
D
Gm
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[Bb] [Eb] [F]
[Bb] He sat by the door [F] of the Grand Old [Bb] Birdsville pub,
[Eb] His wagon [Bb] gear guarded by a faithful [F] healer dog.
[Bb] He wore a shirt that would blind you, and a rumpled [Eb] ringer's hat.
[D] [Bb] This old man was country, [F] he left no [Bb] doubt of that.
There was legend in the lines of his [F] weather-beaten [Bb] face,
Those eyes had [Eb] seen a lot of [Bb] changes in the [F] Aussie race.
[Bb] Through the passing of the horseman, the death of [Eb] an ace,
[Cm] [Bb] Seems to me he doubted that [F] we'd turned a better [Bb] page.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F] And the songs that he sang were [Bb] all his.
[Eb] Every song told a story, and [Bb] the more that I'd listen,
The more I'd realize this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
[Eb]
[F] [Bb]
He sang of mobs of cattle [F] moving down the [Bb] Birdsville track,
[D] [Eb] And the camels [Bb] carting wool in the early [F] days out back.
[Bb] He sang of wild-eyed scrubbers [Eb] riding flat out [Bb] in the night,
Trying to ring the mob, [F] but lightning's quick [Bb] to fright.
And he [Eb] sang loudly and proudly [Bb] about pioneering ladies,
And I [F] suspect that one such lass [Bb] was his.
[Bb] Home in [Eb] this early [Bb] frontier country is a lonely dirt-floor humpy,
No doubt about it, this [F] man knows where country [Bb] is.
[Eb] Mm-mm [F]-mm, mm [Bb]-mm-mm,
His songs told how they did it, and [F] I felt a sense [Bb] of shame.
[Gm] And I [Bb] wondered if the battler would ever be [F] again,
[C] [F] [Bb] His pride for his country rang true in [Eb] every song.
[Gm] [Bb] And I wondered if the chips were down, [F] I would be [Bb] as strong.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F]
The songs that he sang were [Bb] all his.
[Eb] Every song told a [Bb] story, and the more that I'd listen,
The more I realized this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
[Eb] [F] Yes, mate, [Bb] we're so far from the city here,
[F] You know what, this is [Bb] where country is.
Mm-mm [F]-mm, mm-mm-mm,
A [Bb]-da-gee, [F] dust storm, [Bb] flies, hot beer.
[F] [C] [F] [Bb]
[Bb] He sat by the door [F] of the Grand Old [Bb] Birdsville pub,
[Eb] His wagon [Bb] gear guarded by a faithful [F] healer dog.
[Bb] He wore a shirt that would blind you, and a rumpled [Eb] ringer's hat.
[D] [Bb] This old man was country, [F] he left no [Bb] doubt of that.
There was legend in the lines of his [F] weather-beaten [Bb] face,
Those eyes had [Eb] seen a lot of [Bb] changes in the [F] Aussie race.
[Bb] Through the passing of the horseman, the death of [Eb] an ace,
[Cm] [Bb] Seems to me he doubted that [F] we'd turned a better [Bb] page.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F] And the songs that he sang were [Bb] all his.
[Eb] Every song told a story, and [Bb] the more that I'd listen,
The more I'd realize this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
[Eb]
[F] [Bb]
He sang of mobs of cattle [F] moving down the [Bb] Birdsville track,
[D] [Eb] And the camels [Bb] carting wool in the early [F] days out back.
[Bb] He sang of wild-eyed scrubbers [Eb] riding flat out [Bb] in the night,
Trying to ring the mob, [F] but lightning's quick [Bb] to fright.
And he [Eb] sang loudly and proudly [Bb] about pioneering ladies,
And I [F] suspect that one such lass [Bb] was his.
[Bb] Home in [Eb] this early [Bb] frontier country is a lonely dirt-floor humpy,
No doubt about it, this [F] man knows where country [Bb] is.
[Eb] Mm-mm [F]-mm, mm [Bb]-mm-mm,
His songs told how they did it, and [F] I felt a sense [Bb] of shame.
[Gm] And I [Bb] wondered if the battler would ever be [F] again,
[C] [F] [Bb] His pride for his country rang true in [Eb] every song.
[Gm] [Bb] And I wondered if the chips were down, [F] I would be [Bb] as strong.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F]
The songs that he sang were [Bb] all his.
[Eb] Every song told a [Bb] story, and the more that I'd listen,
The more I realized this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
[Eb] [F] Yes, mate, [Bb] we're so far from the city here,
[F] You know what, this is [Bb] where country is.
Mm-mm [F]-mm, mm-mm-mm,
A [Bb]-da-gee, [F] dust storm, [Bb] flies, hot beer.
[F] [C] [F] [Bb]
Key:
Bb
F
Eb
D
Gm
Bb
F
Eb
[Bb] _ _ _ _ [Eb] _ [F] _ _ _
[Bb] _ _ _ _ He sat by the door [F] of the Grand Old [Bb] Birdsville pub,
_ _ [Eb] His wagon [Bb] gear guarded by a faithful [F] healer dog. _ _
[Bb] He wore a shirt that would blind you, and a rumpled [Eb] ringer's hat.
_ [D] _ [Bb] This old man was country, [F] he left no [Bb] doubt of that.
_ There was legend in the lines of his [F] weather-beaten [Bb] face,
Those eyes had [Eb] seen a lot of [Bb] changes in the [F] Aussie race. _
_ [Bb] Through the passing of the horseman, the death of [Eb] an ace,
_ [Cm] _ [Bb] Seems to me he doubted that [F] we'd turned a better [Bb] page.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F] And the songs that he sang were [Bb] all his.
_ _ [Eb] Every song told a story, and [Bb] the more that I'd listen,
The more I'd realize this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
_ [Eb] _
[F] _ _ _ _ [Bb] _ _ _
He sang of mobs of cattle [F] moving down the [Bb] Birdsville track,
_ [D] [Eb] And the camels [Bb] carting wool in the early [F] days out back.
_ [Bb] He sang of wild-eyed scrubbers [Eb] riding flat out [Bb] in the night,
Trying to ring the mob, [F] but lightning's quick [Bb] to fright.
And he [Eb] sang loudly and proudly [Bb] about pioneering ladies,
And I [F] suspect that one such lass [Bb] was his.
_ [Bb] Home in [Eb] this early [Bb] frontier country is a lonely dirt-floor humpy,
_ No doubt about it, this [F] man knows where country [Bb] is.
_ [Eb] Mm-mm [F]-mm, _ mm [Bb]-mm-mm,
His songs told how they did it, and [F] I felt a sense [Bb] of shame. _
_ [Gm] And I [Bb] wondered if the battler would ever be [F] again,
[C] _ [F] _ [Bb] His pride for his country rang true in [Eb] every song.
_ _ [Gm] [Bb] And I wondered if the chips were down, [F] I would be [Bb] as strong.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F]
The songs that he sang were [Bb] all his. _ _
[Eb] Every song told a [Bb] story, and the more that I'd listen,
The more I realized this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
_ [Eb] _ [F] Yes, mate, _ _ [Bb] we're so far from the city here,
[F] You know what, this is [Bb] where country is.
Mm-mm [F]-mm, _ mm-mm-mm,
A [Bb]-da-gee, _ _ [F] dust storm, _ [Bb] flies, hot beer.
[F] _ _ [C] _ [F] _ _ [Bb] _ _
[Bb] _ _ _ _ He sat by the door [F] of the Grand Old [Bb] Birdsville pub,
_ _ [Eb] His wagon [Bb] gear guarded by a faithful [F] healer dog. _ _
[Bb] He wore a shirt that would blind you, and a rumpled [Eb] ringer's hat.
_ [D] _ [Bb] This old man was country, [F] he left no [Bb] doubt of that.
_ There was legend in the lines of his [F] weather-beaten [Bb] face,
Those eyes had [Eb] seen a lot of [Bb] changes in the [F] Aussie race. _
_ [Bb] Through the passing of the horseman, the death of [Eb] an ace,
_ [Cm] _ [Bb] Seems to me he doubted that [F] we'd turned a better [Bb] page.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F] And the songs that he sang were [Bb] all his.
_ _ [Eb] Every song told a story, and [Bb] the more that I'd listen,
The more I'd realize this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
_ [Eb] _
[F] _ _ _ _ [Bb] _ _ _
He sang of mobs of cattle [F] moving down the [Bb] Birdsville track,
_ [D] [Eb] And the camels [Bb] carting wool in the early [F] days out back.
_ [Bb] He sang of wild-eyed scrubbers [Eb] riding flat out [Bb] in the night,
Trying to ring the mob, [F] but lightning's quick [Bb] to fright.
And he [Eb] sang loudly and proudly [Bb] about pioneering ladies,
And I [F] suspect that one such lass [Bb] was his.
_ [Bb] Home in [Eb] this early [Bb] frontier country is a lonely dirt-floor humpy,
_ No doubt about it, this [F] man knows where country [Bb] is.
_ [Eb] Mm-mm [F]-mm, _ mm [Bb]-mm-mm,
His songs told how they did it, and [F] I felt a sense [Bb] of shame. _
_ [Gm] And I [Bb] wondered if the battler would ever be [F] again,
[C] _ [F] _ [Bb] His pride for his country rang true in [Eb] every song.
_ _ [Gm] [Bb] And I wondered if the chips were down, [F] I would be [Bb] as strong.
He sat [Eb] there hillbilly-picking on [Bb] a cracked and battered Gibson,
[F]
The songs that he sang were [Bb] all his. _ _
[Eb] Every song told a [Bb] story, and the more that I'd listen,
The more I realized this [F] is where [Bb] country is.
_ [Eb] _ [F] Yes, mate, _ _ [Bb] we're so far from the city here,
[F] You know what, this is [Bb] where country is.
Mm-mm [F]-mm, _ mm-mm-mm,
A [Bb]-da-gee, _ _ [F] dust storm, _ [Bb] flies, hot beer.
[F] _ _ [C] _ [F] _ _ [Bb] _ _