This is probably not the one you were thinking of
but you are welcome to use it if it is any good to you
LINE DANCING ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet
I’m heading off to Tamworth aboard a Greyhound bus,
it’s a lovely sunny morning there are twenty four of us.
We’re all full of excitement and we’re high on joy de vivre
‘cause we’re going for the longest line dance record you'll see.
I’ve been practising for weeks now and finally got it right,
heel toe, heel toe, now twist and bow, jump left but keep it tight,
and I’m carried by the music and I’m lifted by the song
in my fringed shirt, R.M boots and jeans I feel I can’t go wrong
Well Tamworth is really humming; there are Utes and trucks galore
Guitars are happily strumming with banjos, violins and more.
The people here are thronging down the alleys and the streets,
there are buskers on the corners, country music sets the beat.
The big parade has started – we gamely get in place
down both sides of the main street, the biggest line dance race.
We’re in the Guinness book as the longest dance in town.
A kilometre of line dancers, strutting their stuff around.
As we dance to Achy Breaky, and to Troy, Tania and Lee,
to Slim, and Hank and Tom T Hall and even Robbie G,
the crowd think we’re terrific as we move along the street,
we’re euphoric, we’re elated and we’re bloody hard to beat.
So come on down to Tamworth in January next year
You’ll have a bonzer time mate; no doubt I’ll still be here
‘cause you never need a partner when you’re with this country throng.
Just a country sense of rhythm and a love of country songs.
Yee ha