From Baxters Land I may be a long drive away
But in my flights of fancy I am back there today
And the magpie he pipes from his silvery bill
And the gray roos through the bracken do bound up the hill
The black swans, coots and moorhens are feeding on the lake
And the voice of the black duck one cannot mistake
And the black shouldered kite is hovering in the sky
If it spots some small creature back to earth it will fly
It is not very hard for one to visualize
A Spring day in Baxters Land as the sunrise
The nesting birds singing on bushes and trees
With a gentle freshness in the coastal breeze
In my flights of fancy I am back there again
Fond memories of Baxters with me does remain.