When The Rain Tumbles Down In July
By Slim Dusty (1945)

Let me wander north to the homestead,
Way out, further on there to roam,
By a gully in flood, let me linger
When the summery sunshine has flown,
Where the logs tangle up on the creek-beds
And the clouds veil the old northern sky
And the cattle move back from the lowlands,
When the rain tumbles down in July.

The settlers with sad hearts are watching
The rise of the stream from the dawn,
Their best crops are always in flood reach,
If it rises much more they'll be gone.
The cattle string out along the fences,
the wind from the south races by,
And the limbs of the old gums are falling
When the rain tumbles down in July.

The sleeping gums on the hillside,
Awaken to herds straying by.
From the flats where the fences have vanished,
As the storm clouds gather on high.
The wheels of the wagons stop turning
And the stock horses is turned out to stray,
And the old station dogs are a-dozing
On husks in the barn through the day.

And the drover draws rein by the river
It's years since he's seen it so high,
Yes, And that's just a story of Homewood
When the rain tumbles down in July.

Oh okay.