ainjel_from_hell

ang aking kubo (gary granda) isa sa paborito kong mang aawit

Ang aking kubo sa tabindagat

Dingding ay pawid, bubong ay nipa

Sa palibot may mga halaman

At bakod na gawang kawayan

Gayak ng kubo ay kalikasan

Ang kabukiran, ang buwan at bituin

Pinapayungan ng punongkahoy

Iniihipan ng sariwang hangin

Sa aking kubo'y may paralumang

Sa aking puso'y nakalarawan

At sa pagtulog ay mayrong rosas

Na niyayakap ko't hinahagkan

Ang aking kubo'y dalampasigang

Sa along tulad ko'y inaasam-asam

Kubong kailanma'y di ko ipagpapalit

Sa isang palasyong walang pag-ibig

Ganyan ang kubo, ganyan ang buhay

Minsa'y tatawa ka, minsa'y malulumbay

May pagdiriwang, may kalungkutan

Laging nanunukso (nangungutya) ang kapalaran

May mga sandaling mistulang (akala mo'y) langit

Ngunit paggising pala'y panaginip

Kaya kailangang sa gabi't araw

Didiligin ang kubo ng pag-ibig

Sa aking kubo tuwing takipsilim

Lumang gitara'y aking kapiling

Mga awiting di malilimutan

Mga harana at mga kundiman

Ang aking kubong pangkaraniwan

Di man kastilyo ngunit paraiso

Kahit na mukhang bahaybahayan

Ang aking kubo'y isang tahanan

Ganyan ang kubo...

Sa aking kubo'y may paralumang...

Kubong kaylanma'y di ko ipagpapalit

Sa isang palasyong walang pag-ibig

The Diamantina Drove (Hugh Mcdonalds) -- sikat noong kamiy hi skul

The faces in the photographs are faded and I can't believe he looks so much like

me. For it's been ten long years today since I left for old Cork Station, saying I

won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

For the rain never falls on the Dusty Diamtina. The drover finds it hard to change

his mind. For the years have surely gone, like the drays from old Cork Station, and I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

It seems like the sun comes up each morning, sets me up and then takes it all

away. For the dreaming by the light of the campfire at night blends with the

burning light of day.

For the rain never falls on the Dusty Diamtina. The drover finds it hard to change

his mind. For the years have surely gone, like the drays from old Cork Station, and I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

I sometimes think I'll settle back in Sydney, but it's been so long and it's hard to

change your mind. For the cattle trays go on and on and the fences roll forever, and I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.

For the rain never falls on the Dusty Diamtina. The drover finds it hard to change

his mind. For the years have surely gone, like the drays from old Cork Station, and I won't be back 'till the drovin's done.