Where The Merri Flow

The butcherbird sings on an old gray gum tree Where the Merri waters flow on towards the sea Through an old Land that has inspired story and rhyme That was even old in the ancient Dreamtime. The old Merri river so calmly does flow As near to the ocean it crawls along slow Just over a mile from where the surf waves roar It quietly moves on to the saltwater shore. On this warm day in November of hardly any breeze Out of the sun the cattle they lay in the shade of the trees In a paddock that is lit by the sun's warm light Of such tranquil beauty the poets do write. Centuries before the first people to this Southern Land came The Merri the waterway without a name Across the brown Countryside night after day The river on down to the sea made it's way. On the nearby bushes melodious and clear The song of the shrike thrush so pleasant to hear And harsh is the caw of the dark pale eyed crow Where the Merri on down to the great ocean flow.