Dusty Boots and Dreams

The sun comes up over the golden wheat,

Pulls on her boots and ties her feet,

Twelve years old with a lot to do,

A farm girl through and through.

She feeds the chooks and checks the sheep,

Before the world has stirred from sleep,

With dusty jeans and a hat pulled low,

She's got a whole big farm to go.

She's a twelve-year-old girl on a great big farm,

With the sun on her face and the wind on her arms,

Driving through paddocks beneath skies of blue,

There's nothing on earth she'd rather do.

From the morning light till the setting sun,

There's always work and there's always fun,

With a country heart and a spirit so strong,

She's a farm girl,

and that's where she belongs.

She checks the troughs where the cattle drink,

Stops by the dam at the edge of the brink,

The old dog follows wherever she goes,

Through the wild grass where the saltbush grows.

The tractor rumbles across the land,

She waves to Dad as he lifts his hand,

There's fences to mend and yards to clean,

And the widest skies she's ever seen.

She's a twelve-year-old girl on a great big farm,

With the sun on her face and the wind on her arms,

Driving through paddocks beneath skies of blue,

There's nothing on earth she'd rather do.

From the morning light till the setting sun,

There's always work and there's always fun,

With a country heart and a spirit so strong,

She's a farm girl,

and that's where she belongs.

When the summer heat turns the paddocks brown,

And the rain clouds gather all around,

She watches the storms roll across the plain,

Hoping they'll bring the precious rain.

At the end of the day when the light turns gold,

She's tired from the work but her heart feels bold,

She sits on the fence as the galahs fly,

Painting their colours across the sky.

One day she'll grow,

but she'll always know,

The smell of the earth and the crops that grow,

The sound of the wind through the old gum trees,

And the freedom of home in the evening breeze.

She might be young,

but she's learning each day,

That a farmer's life has its own special way,

And no matter how far her dreams may roam,

That little farm will always be home.

She's a twelve-year-old girl on a great big farm,

With a country heart and a whole lot of charm,

Under the stars where the night birds call,

She wouldn't trade her farm for it all.

From the first sunrise to the stars above,

This is her life,

this is her love,

With dusty boots and dreams so strong,

She's a farm girl,

and that's where she belongs.

(that's where she belongs)

The sun goes down on the wheatbelt sky,

A twelve-year-old girl watches the day roll by.

Tomorrow brings work, and she'll be there,

With the dust on her boots and the wind in her hair.