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.