Their name is a clue to their familiar song
The birds known to many as the pied currawong
In the wooded gully and on the higher ground
The echoes of their currawong notes resound,
In her nest of sticks high on an eucalypt the female bird lay
Three light brown eggs with dark freckles and from their territory they chase away
Bigger and smaller birds and on other birds young they even prey
Unflattering things of them some Nature lovers do say,
On changeable weather in the freshening breeze
They sing currawong on the tall woodland trees
The same notes they repeat over and again
And some refer to them as the dark birds of rain,
In the high wooded country they sing currawong
Big black and white birds with an unmistakeable song.
The birds known to many as the pied currawong
In the wooded gully and on the higher ground
The echoes of their currawong notes resound,
In her nest of sticks high on an eucalypt the female bird lay
Three light brown eggs with dark freckles and from their territory they chase away
Bigger and smaller birds and on other birds young they even prey
Unflattering things of them some Nature lovers do say,
On changeable weather in the freshening breeze
They sing currawong on the tall woodland trees
The same notes they repeat over and again
And some refer to them as the dark birds of rain,
In the high wooded country they sing currawong
Big black and white birds with an unmistakeable song.