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Where Country Is  Lee Kernaghan

"Where Country Is"
Lee Kernaghan
He [D]sat by the door of the [A]grand old Birdsville [D]Pub
His [G]swag and gear was [D]guarded by a faithful heeler [A]dog
He wore a [D]shirt that would blind ya and a rumpled ringers [G]hat
[D]This old man was country, he [A]left no doubt of [D]that
Well he [D]sang of mobs of cattle moving [A]down the Birdsville [D]track
And the [G]camels carting [D]wool in the early days out[A]back
He sang of [D]wild eyed scrubbers runnin' flat out in the [G]night
[D]Tryin' to ring the mob cause the [A]lightnin's quick to [D]fright
He sat there [G]hillbilly pickin' on a [D]cracked and battered Gibson
[A]And the songs that he sang were all [D]his
Every [G]song told a story and the [D]more that I listened
The more I realised this is [A]where country [D]is
[D]Well his songs told how they did it and I [A]felt a sense of [D]shame
And I [G]wondered if the [D]battler would ever be [A]again
His [D]pride in his country rang true in every [G]song
And I [D]wondered if the chips were down if I [A]ever would be as [D]strong

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