Before the dry in Broken Hill, 
The air was still, earth dust and dead
My father flew the planes 
For men that dug the holes, laid the claims

Days in a mining town, no trees to fall down,
Every house a home, 
Random storms, blue skies, blue days

Leaving town, we moved north, 
The sun burned and scorched all hopes 
Of the rain being good that year

No need for shoes at school that year
Like Broken Hill, ground held no fear
Light scorched the ground, 
Feet safe and sound

My father he worked for the company
Good man for the company

Long days, dying sun
Dedicated to a dream,
United by the family seam
My father, he worked for the company
Good man for the company

In early days, men worked with pride, 
No fear the company left you dry
Those days are gone 
Thank God this family remains 

My father, he worked for the company
Good man for the company