In A Tongue Never Silent

The creek from the high country flowing ever brown Babbles in the scrub land by the mountain town On it's way to the river to the far ocean bay In a tongue never silent by night or by day In a place too stony for root crops or silage or hay The roos and the wallabies in the twilight gray By day in the high scrub often hidden from sight Drink before hopping downhill to greener pastures for the night People like Nature's Seasons to life come and from life go But it cannot be said of the creek that time becomes it's foe For milleniums of centuries it has flowed with a will To the far away river from the foot of the hill Very old in the age of the dinosaurs and the dreaming time It has inspired the makers of story and rhyme To the river that flows to the far ocean shore It has flowed forever and will forever more.