By The Old Screw Creek

On the willow tree on the bank by where the old screw creek flow
The gold billed blackbird fluting his tunes soft and mellow
His ancestors were brought here a few centuries ago
But of the lands they came from he would not even know.

A few years ago he was born in a hedgerow a half of a mile from here
And in the spring and summer his voice one often hear
Distinctive in his all black and distintive in his song
He warns other blackbirds that this patch to him belong.

His mate nearby sits in her nest on fork of banksia tree
She patiently incubates her eggs to life together he and she
Share the task of incubating and raising the family
And as well he has the added task of guarding their family.

On the willow tree by the old screw creek the gold billed blackbird sing
And his voice a thing of beauty to it has a pleasant ring
His ancestors brought to this land by migrants years ago
But of that he is ignorant and this the only place of which he know.