My Little Hometown

© Graeme Jensen

There’s a little ol’ town on the edge of the range
Where the cattle are grazing near the fields of cane
Where nobody hears the sounds of the trains
After a while they all sound the same

There’s a rusty old sawmill up Kanyan way
An old army blitz, kept the mill chuggin’ away
You’d see a whisper of smoke up the valley some days
The finest of hardwood was supplied in its day

Chorus
This is my little hometown
Laughter from the school yard rings out
The people round here, will all be your friends
This is my little hometown

The majestic old pub could tell a tale or two
About the time old mad Mick came to town on the booze
He got on the grog and rode his horse thru the pub
The horse whinnied and bucked, and left a big trail of mud

There’s an old wooden bridge over the Mary she spans
She rattles and shakes from the cars and trains
Brought out from old England back in 1886
This mighty old bridge a part of our history

Chorus