As the sky starts to brighten just before daybreak
The whistling of the gray shrike thrush one ought not to mistake
So flute like and familiar and melodious and clear
A beautiful voice in the Spring of the year
In parks and woods of South East Australia his kind one often does see
Birds familiar to many and familiar to me
Lightish brown on back and unders of gray
Birds I do see often though not every day
He sings in the wood on the bushes and trees
And his beautiful music carrying in the breeze
So pleasant to listen to in the prime of the Spring
His wonderful voice to it does have a distinctive ring
Surely one of Australia's leading birds of song
His voice from once heard you will never get wrong.