Rain from Nowhere


Written by Murray Hartin
His cattle didn't get a bid, they were fairly bloody poor
What was he going to do? He couldn't feed them anymore
The dams were all but dry, hay was thirteen bucks a bale,
Last month's talk of rain was just a fairy tale
His credit had run out, no chance to pay what's owed
Bad thoughts ran through his head as he drove down gully road
Geez great granddad bought the place in 1898
now I'm such a useless bastard I'll have to shut the gate
Can't support my wife and kids, not like dad and those before
Crikey grandma kept it going while pop fought in the war


With depression now his master, he abandoned what was right
There's no place in life for failures, he'd end it all tonight
There were still some things to do, he'd have to shoot the cattle first
Of all the jobs he'd ever done, that would be the worst
He'd have a shower, watch the news, then they'd all sit down for tea
Read his kids a bedtime story, watch some more TV
Kiss his wife goodnight, say he was off to shoot some roos
Then in a paddock far way he'd blow away the blues 

But he drove in the gate and stopped - as he always had
To check the roadside mailbox - and found a letter from his dad
Now his dad was not a writer, his mum did all the cards and mail
But he new the writing from the notebooks that he used at cattle sales

He sensed the nature of it's contents, felt moisture in his eyes
Just the fact his dad had written was enough to make him cry
"Son I know it's bloody tough, it's a cruel and twisted game
This life upon the land when you're screaming out for rain

There's no candle in the darkness, not a single speck of light
But don't let the demon get you, you have to do what's right

I don't know what's in your head, but push the bad thoughts well away
See you'll always have your family at the backend of the day
You have to talk to someone and yes I know I rarely did
But you have to think about Fiona and think about the kids

I'm worried about you son, you haven't rung for quite a while
I know the road you're on, cause I've walked every bloody mile
The date December 7 back in 1983, 
Behind the shed I had the shotgun rested in the brigalow tree

See I'd borrowed way too much to buy the Johnson place
Then it didn't rain for years, and we got bombed by interest rates
The bank was at the door, I didn't think I had a choice
I began to squeeze the trigger - That's when I heard your voice

You said "Where are you daddy it's time to play our game
I've got squatter all setup, we might get general rain
It really was that close, you're the one that stopped me son
And you're the one that taught me there's no answer in a gun


Just remember people love you, good friends won't let you down
look you might have to swallow pride and take that job in town
Just till things come good son, you've always got a choice
And when you get this letter ring me, cause I'd love to hear you're voice

Well he cried and laughed and shook his head and put the truck in gear
Shut his eyes and hugged his dad, in a vision that was clear
Dropped the cattle at the yards, put the truck away
Filled the troughs the best he could, and fed his last 10 bales of hay

Then he strode towards the homestead, shoulders back and head held high
He still knew the road was tough, but there was purpose in his eye
He called his wife and children who'd lived through all his pain
Hugs said more than words - he'd come back to them again

They talked of silver linings, how good times always follow bad
Then he walked towards the phone, picked it up and called his dad
Then while the kids setup the squatter, he hugged his wife again
Then they heard the roll of thunder and smelt the smell of rain

Copyright Dream Films February 21 2007


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