1

Titled on the hoof which means not yet slaughtered





I’m not a drover, just a loner

On the hoof and ridin’ over

What I know and what I speak

What I know is all I’ll need



The ranges said it right when they had nothin’ to say

They’re a little starved to be articulate

And, like me, are askin’ for a drink

I haven’t figured out recovery

But I’m not askin’ to be fixed

To heal is to look around, skip the cut and shrink



I’d even shoot my soul to captivate

If I knew the way to go



Those bound down below to the new old Moore Creek are dead without a chance

To you jockeys bitter with the hammer stop chippin’ away at your hands

Do you applaud when I say you’re changin’

Or have you forgotten what change has meant?

Leap like me, get back on your horse

Those rusty cleats are clean of dirt



I’d even pull a brumby for you

If I knew the way to go



‘Cause I confess, in expectation, that I never learnt to loop
I’m not a rider, just a jockey on the hoof