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He sat quiet
Talkin' wasn't for him anyways', he'd always thought as much
It was for city folk , and lawyers and blokes who called football matches
Not him

He thought his name was Toby, or somethin' like it
Didn't matter anyways' he was a good man, and a good father
And his girl, seemed to like him enough

When the road ran out, and there was no more stone
He turned, said " I'll be seein' ya then"
But he knew he wouldn't
And was gone

Walked for long enough
Through the valleys, scrub and the creeks
Drank in the mountain air, of the eucas and the gums
'Til he was back at his hut, his home

Wasn't much he knew, just some bricks and tin, a bed and cooker
But he'd light the fire, make a cuppa
Sit back with his dog at his feet, and muse
There's nowhere he'd rather be...