You're the bread that's on the table from the wheat out 

in the field,

You're the crane that loads the iron ore that we turn 

into steel,

You're a farmer or a drover, you're a lonely shearer's 

wife,

But to all of us Australians, you're the country way of 

life.



You're the wine that's in the cellar from the vineyards 

in the south,

You're the cheese, the milk, the butter that feeds a 

nations mouth,

You're the mighty irrigation, the hope of powerless 

time,

But to all of us Australians, you're the country way of 

life.



When days are tough and even vest of time,

The land you love won't pay you much to keep your 

dreams alive,

And you call yourself Australian 'cos you know you've 

earned the right,

To the people in the cities, that's the country way of 

life.



[Instrumental]



You're the little towns we've heard of, 7 houses and a 

pub,

You're the way you help each other way out there in the 

scrub,

You're the tyranny of distance, you're the misery of 

miles, 

But to all of us Australians, you're the country way of 

life.



You're the tyranny of distance, the clear blue open 

skies,

But to all of us Australians, you're the country way of 

life,

But to all of us Australians, you're the country way of 

life.