Often in my flights of fancy I leave the noisy street
And travel to the brown land where the creek and river meet
Where the grey shrike thrush is piping upon a wattle tree
By the quiet rural waterway that journeys to the sea
My only God is Nature of that why should I lie
And I will always love her until the day I die
I believe we are Nature's creations like all things that hop, crawl, swim, run or fly
My God lives all around me not somewhere in the sky
I long for quiet places far from the noisy town
Where the old creek from the foothills to the river journeys down
That winds it's way through the brown lands on to the ocean shore
Our lives seem such a short span of time Nature will live forever more
Often in my flights of fancy my imagination takes me far
As I drive on down the highway towards that quiet place in my car.
And travel to the brown land where the creek and river meet
Where the grey shrike thrush is piping upon a wattle tree
By the quiet rural waterway that journeys to the sea
My only God is Nature of that why should I lie
And I will always love her until the day I die
I believe we are Nature's creations like all things that hop, crawl, swim, run or fly
My God lives all around me not somewhere in the sky
I long for quiet places far from the noisy town
Where the old creek from the foothills to the river journeys down
That winds it's way through the brown lands on to the ocean shore
Our lives seem such a short span of time Nature will live forever more
Often in my flights of fancy my imagination takes me far
As I drive on down the highway towards that quiet place in my car.
