Oh Sing Us Of Central Victoria

Oh sing us of central Victoria of places like Daylesford, Maryborough and Castlemaine
To that flat and open brown country that welcomes every drop of rain
Where gold miners flocked to in their thousands a century and a half ago
And where some even amassed great fortunes in the goldfields of old Bendigo.

Oh sing us of Central Victoria the brown lands I fancy I see
Far Inland and away from suburbia some say it is god's own country
Where Indigenous black tribes once hunted in an ancient land as old as time
The ballad singers sing about it and the bards by it inspired to rhyme.

Oh sing us of central Victoria of Maldon and Hepburn Springs
Where in the cool months of the winter the dark bird the currawong sings,
The young man lives and works in the city but he often visualize
The beautiful song of the magpie away from the traffic and noise.

Oh sing us of central Victoria if you feel like singing a song
Of those ancient brown lands of Victoria the god of the black tribes belong
Away from polluted suburbia where welcome swallow chirp and fly
And butcherbird's clear pleasant fluting echo to the still morning sky.