Written by Dick Roberts
Have you ever heard it,
High upon the mountain tops,
when all the bush birds sing.
Have ever felt the morning sun,
It’s warmth upon your back,
While riding a mountain pony,
quietly through the mountain ash.
Have you ever seen the mountain sky,
On a dark and frosty night,
As you crowd around the campfire,
With the stars that shine so bright.
Have you woken in the dawn,
To see the mist rise slowly from the creek,
To then watch it disappear,
so quickly and so meek.
For this is the mountains,
Australia’s High Country,
Where the stockman once mustered,
the cattle that all roamed free.
This is the freedom,
That I’ve been talking about,
Campfires, good horses,
Open up the old stock routes.
Have you ever stopped to feel the rain,
In summer thunderstorm,
Hear the snow gums rattle,
As they struggle to hold on.
Have you ever opened up a horse,
Until he fans his mane,
Full gallop chasing brumbies,
Right across wild horse plain.
For this is the mountains,
Australia’s High Country,
Where the stockman once mustered,
The cattle that all roamed free.
This is the freedom,
That I’ve been talking about,
Campfires, good horses,
Open up the old stock routes.
Yeah this the Mountains,
Australia’s High Country,
Get behind the bushman,
And keep our country free.
Yeah this is the freedom,
That I’ve been talking about.
Campfires, good horses,
Open up the old stock routes.
Campfires, good horses……….open up the old stock routes.
Nelle's journey 