The Old Creek

The creek from the high country it's babbling tongue i hear
More water in it at present than at anytime last year
To join the sea going river downhill it winds it's way
It babbles on forever every night and every day.

Through thistle laden paddocks by fence and by hedgerow
Down to the flatter countryside home of the pale eyed crow
On down to the big river far from it's mother hill
It babbles on forever it's tongue is never still.

The old creek from the mountain babbles as it journey down
Through pasture lands and scrub lands by the old country town
Through droughts and long dry Seasons it has not ceased to flow
The Dreamtime people danced by it many centuries ago.

The old creek from the high country as old as father time
It has inspired great stories and inspired the bards to rhyme
When i am lost to memory and all trace of me has gone
The old creek by the old town will still be babbling on.