There is this place with nothing
No-one during the year
But for one weekend in September they come from every parts
packed with nothing but beer


We set off on the long journey
with the mindset of only good times
no intentions, no worries, no plans
nothing but open minds


We rose to the sun and packed our gear
ready for a testing long drive
so long, we would have died of boredom
if it wasn't for our good vibe

We made a quick stop at Quilpie
with no intentions of staying
but soon we'd see a banner of the Kangarangadoo
six bucks each is all we'd be paying

the price of the caravan park that is
stumbling distance from the local water hole
and having a few too many
was our one and only goal


Our heads were pounding, our mouths were dry
as we woke to the swarm of flies
but we knew the trek must continue
so we packed and said our goodbyes

We'd been told to stop at Windorah
for the yearly crayfish races that night
we found out you could buy one and race it
so we thought that we just might

Three hundred we payed for Cods Wallop
it must have run near last
We forgave the little fella
the others were just too fast


We arrived as thousands of others did
with releived looks on our faces
our destination was finally upon us
the infamous Birdsville races

My father's a veteran at Birdsville
knows everyone, everything and how to sell
you want to buy a souvenir at out there
go see Graham Bell

We had to see him for another matter
the place was packed to the brim
But Dad already had a place set up for us
i knew we could rely on him

As the dark replaced light
and we'd downed a couple of beers
we noticed a loud drum beat
and the sound of many cheers

We followed the swarms of people
until the fuss we could finally see
it was a huge tent and a loud voice
both belonged to Fred Brophy

His fighters looked like movie stars
but The cowboy was the one to beat
Fred got his contenders every night
we were just happy with a seat

We were to attend the races the next day
after downing a bottle of rum
some say ten's a little early
even a little dumb


You couldn't pick a winner
on this harsh dirt track
eight races for the day
my eight finished somewhere at the back

Our fun was not to end
until the wee hours of the morn
we intended to sleep till noon
but woke at the crack of dawn


So we arrived on Birdsville cup day
With our beer tickets in hand
Moonee Lane won the big one
Glided home across the sand

No one seemed to care much
about the money they had lost
cause of the good times and great mates
and for that there is no cost

So go to Birdsville and see it all
I know my dad'll be there
i fell in love and i'll be back
my dad and I a pair

There is this place with nothing
no one during the year
But if you love this country
then you'll surely make it here