Where The Powlett Flow

It was an old countryside i used to know
Where from the hills of Kilcunda the old Powlett flow
Through the land that was once owned by the Bunurong
That often inspires poets to poetry and song,
The high cliffs of Kilcunda overlooking the sea
Such beautiful views to live in memory
And back from the cliffs in the shade of the trees
The indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Long before the dinosaurs or the first people came
For to live in this Country that then did not have a name
Through scrubland and sand dunes flowing on ceaselessly
The Powlett it crawled it's way on to the sea
And in fancy I'm by the old Powlett once more
As it gurgles it's way to the Pacific shore.