My story swings around a bunch of soldiers,
Resting close behind the battle scene,
There were men from many nations represented,
A rugged tough united nations team,
They spoke about their own beloved homelands,
Resting far from all the tortured battle scene
On this day the lad who claimed the most attention
A young Australian soldier who began.
Oh,I have never claimed to be a Namatjira [1],
I have never taken up the painter's brush,
But in words, my lads, I'll paint for you a picture,
Of my homeland in the wide Australian bush.
Have you ever seen the Western Plains at sundown?
And the fiery streaks that seem to blaze across
And then later in the evenin' see a ghost gum
Standing silently beneath the southern cross?
Have you ever heard the wild swan in its calling,
In the stillness of some far away lagoon?
Or seen the place where brumbies come to water?
They always come at the rising of the moon.
Have you ever wandered through some ferny gully
In springtime when the wattles are in bloom?
If you've never, then you'll never know the sweetness,
That fills the air around with its perfume.
Have you ever gazed upon a peaceful homestead,
With the old Blue Mountains standing in the view?
See the homestead cattle grazin' by the river,
From the hillside bounds an Old Man Kangaroo [2],
In the ev'nin, see the smoke rise from the chimney,
Tells that day is done and soon it's time for tea,
Hear the jackass laughter ringing through the bushland?
Well that's God's own country, and home sweet home to me.
Have you ever seen a wheat field in the morning,
When the dawn wind ripples through the golden grain,
Or wandered through the farmlands in the dawn time,
And smelt their earthly sweetness after rain?
Oh, I have never claimed to be a Namatjira,
As I'd said before, I've never used a brush,
But I hope, my lads, I've painted you a picture,
Of my homeland in the wide Australian bush.
Resting close behind the battle scene,
There were men from many nations represented,
A rugged tough united nations team,
They spoke about their own beloved homelands,
Resting far from all the tortured battle scene
On this day the lad who claimed the most attention
A young Australian soldier who began.
Oh,I have never claimed to be a Namatjira [1],
I have never taken up the painter's brush,
But in words, my lads, I'll paint for you a picture,
Of my homeland in the wide Australian bush.
Have you ever seen the Western Plains at sundown?
And the fiery streaks that seem to blaze across
And then later in the evenin' see a ghost gum
Standing silently beneath the southern cross?
Have you ever heard the wild swan in its calling,
In the stillness of some far away lagoon?
Or seen the place where brumbies come to water?
They always come at the rising of the moon.
Have you ever wandered through some ferny gully
In springtime when the wattles are in bloom?
If you've never, then you'll never know the sweetness,
That fills the air around with its perfume.
Have you ever gazed upon a peaceful homestead,
With the old Blue Mountains standing in the view?
See the homestead cattle grazin' by the river,
From the hillside bounds an Old Man Kangaroo [2],
In the ev'nin, see the smoke rise from the chimney,
Tells that day is done and soon it's time for tea,
Hear the jackass laughter ringing through the bushland?
Well that's God's own country, and home sweet home to me.
Have you ever seen a wheat field in the morning,
When the dawn wind ripples through the golden grain,
Or wandered through the farmlands in the dawn time,
And smelt their earthly sweetness after rain?
Oh, I have never claimed to be a Namatjira,
As I'd said before, I've never used a brush,
But I hope, my lads, I've painted you a picture,
Of my homeland in the wide Australian bush.
×
![]()
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
[2] The Sing-Song of Old Man Kangaroo