Origins

There’s a mailbox in the front yard

My Pop made out of an old milk jug

Pink flamingo flowerpots

Cause that’s what Mumma loved

There’s a scar on the frangipani tree

Where my dirt bike and me finally stopped

I learnt to build a better chicken pen

When the foxes came to eat

And that teamwork makes the dream work

Playing bin cricket on the street

You know son, you gotta get a little dirt on your hand

Said my old man when it was time to pick the crops

My origins, made me who I am now

My origins, can be traced back to that house

I don’t know where my story ends

But I know where it began

My origins

I’d go out on the back verandah

And for hours I would sing

My broad brim hat could’ve been a crown

Cause like George Strait I was the King

My songs were the seeds

And the only rain they needed was applause

My origins, made me who I am now

My origins, can be traced back to that house

I don’t know where my story ends

But I know where it began

My origins

Doesn’t matter where I travel

Doesn’t matter which path I’m on

I know that all roads lead me straight back to those

‘Where I come from’

Origins, that made me who I am now

Origins, and that little fibro house

I don’t know where my story ends

But I know where it began

My origins

There’s a mailbox in the front yard

My Pop made out of an old milk jug

Pink flamingo flowerpots

Cause that’s what Mumma loved

There’s a scar on the frangipani tree

Where my dirt bike and me finally stopped