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congrats and have fantastic time... David Crewe

You can’t see it now, of how the gum trees reach the sky
and how the kangaroo’s lay beneath the jacaranda tree
all the squeal ‘n squawk, with this early morning talk
from Black Cockatoo’s, flying high ‘n‘ feelin free

Don’t go tellin’ me, that things will be ok,
Don’t go makin sure, that you’ll leave no job, undone today.
Cause it’s the We that made our house, a home
Not the you, or just the I
all that’s left are the memories
of our life gone by.

I wipe a tear from my eye, every time I think of you
The cats still roam the house, softly crying out your name
The tractor sits in the shed, battery now, totally dead
What’ll I do, now that you’re gone, its just not the same.

Don’t go tellin’ me, that things will be ok,
Don’t go makin sure, that you’ll leave no job, undone today.
Cause it’s the We that made our house, a home
Not the you, or just the I
all that’s left are the memories
of our life gone by.

Its been 2 winters now, long and cold without you
The clear nights sky glow, with that one star I seek
And you are everywhere, but nowhere to be seen
While I will wait for you, here at home, our Myrtle creek.

Don’t go tellin me, that you want to set me free
Don’t go makin sure, you’ll go ‘n’ find someone new, for me
Cause it’s the We that made our house, a home
Not the you, or just the I
all I’ve got left, are only memories
of our life gone by.

all I've got left are only memories
of our life gone by.

The noise of stockwhips cracking, echoed all around
sent my heart beating madly through my chest.
I could see The Stockmen approach amidst all this sound
as they raced towards the mountains crest.
My sides were thick with lather ‘n’ white with foam & sweat
as I slowed, waiting for the others to catch my stride.
They had all been right beside me, when we first had left
the grassy plateau, where we were trying to hide.
I had seen The Stockman coming, from where I stood on watch
with his whip in hand, cracking overhead.
He was coming at a gallop, that only I could match
so I took the lead and started up the sandy creek bed
Frantic, the others started up behind, and quickly gained in pace
as we headed along the ridge, across the top, and down the bank.
The scrub was thick in lantana, which raked across my face
I looked around, as all hell was breaking loose at my flank.

Chorus:
Wild and free we run, to escape man and gun.
Myrtle creek our home, our land
Down through the valley, we've got this race won
Brumbies unite and make our stand

He roped her on the flat, then circled all around
there was no chance in hell for her to get away.
I stopped to try and catch my breath, to see where we were bound
and to move the others on, for now I had to stay.
My body racked in pain, each time I tried to breathe
but I new that time, was of an essence.
I have to move The Stockman, before he could see
that not all of us, had left the plateau’s presence.
My mind was working overtime, to control this woeful plight
thinking of a scheme, that could move the stockman on.
‘It might work, I’ve got to try, and try before first light,
but it means to bring the others back, before the dawn.’
We had gathered near the ridge, so The Stockman was in sight
and we waited for the light of day to rise.
We only had one chance, so we must do this right.
All I heard, was the thundering of hoof beats by my side.

Chorus:
Wild and free we run, to escape man and gun.
Myrtle creek our home, our land
Down through the valley, we've got this race won
Brumbies unite and make our stand

We headed to his campsite, at an unfaltering speed
this stampede should send them all a’scattering.
He had mustered all the horses, the ones he had thought he’d need,
but the sound of our charge, was just earth shattering.
The mob had gone racing, as The Stockman cracked his whip
and took them down the heavy timbered gully, at a pace.
We had no time to look, sure-footed none could trip
and kept our heads down, and continued with our race.
The Stockman, he was quick, even for this rough & broken ground
but the knowledge of the mountains, was our home.
He landed with his pony and then turns his head around
we had broken this man’s strength, his pony’s side white in foam.
Our days are all but numbered, for we are the last of our line
and our memories, are heavy of those who went before.
The grassy plateau, all but gone, the good days left behind.
Will there be any of us left, to see the future that’s in store?

Chorus:
Wild and free we run, to escape man and gun.
Myrtle creek our home, our land
Down through the valley, we've got this race won
Brumbies unite and make our stand