I live in a land down under
Where long before white man arrived,
The bush was a place of pure wonder,
And the natives were sure not deprived.
They dined everyday according to season,
Rare were they short of a meal.
They lived in a state of perfect cohesion,
Could choose on the day whatever appealed.
If they felt like a steak or big pot of stew,
They’d go on a hunt for a day, maybe two.
Bring back a fish, crocodile, kangaroo,
Or if smart enough, an emu or two.
Its oil had numerous uses
The meat was roasted on coals
Yams cooked in the juices,
While they sat, Dreamtime stories were told.
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