Red Dirt Gympie

Old Mary River in a lazy bend

Gold town stories from your granddad’s friends

Rust on the utes

Dust in the shoes

Country on the radio

Tin-roof views

Gympie

You get under my skin

Red dirt roads and high school sins

Friday night lights on the showground ring

You’re the small town I can’t outrun

Smell of rain and diesel in the sun

Gympie

You’re in everything I bring

Main Street bakery

Iced coffee hands

Sunburnt tradies

Boots full of sand

Markets on Saturday

Kids run wild

Everyone’s someone’s cousin’s child

Gympie

You get under my skin

Red dirt roads and high school sins

Friday night lights on the showground ring

You’re the small town I can’t outrun

Smell of rain and diesel in the sun

Gympie

You’re in everything I bring

From Tin Can Bay to the pine tree lines

Storm clouds stack on the power lines

I swear I’d leave

Then the day goes gold

And this little town won’t let me go (oh)

Gympie

You get under my skin

Red dirt roads and all my kin

Stars hang low where the creek runs thin

You’re the small town I can’t outrun

Smell of rain and diesel in the sun

Gympie

You’re where my story begins