When I die

Carry me back to the bush when I die
It’s there that I always could rest
Bury me deep in the desert’s red earth
on a dry river bank in the west

Take me back home to the stock camp
out on the endless red plain
Let my soul know the peace and the quiet
of my home in the bush once again

Don’t pray as you lower me under
just say a few words from a bard
With Banjo’s sweet verse to see me away
the journey won’t then be so hard

And though I’ll not hear the calls of the birds
or feel the wind gust in the trees
My spirit will soar out over the plain
and there I will always be free.

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