The tiny frogs singing in the roadside drain
And the magpie is warbling in the wind and the rain
And cloaked by the darkness the brown boobook owl cry
His mopoke call echoing in the night sky
Her secrets from us Mother Nature does keep
Her night creatures active whilst her day creatures sleep
Our wonderment of her ways only seem to grow
So little about her we do seem to know
In their breeding Season of late Winter to early Spring of the year
The flutes of the magpies at night one does hear
At breeding time males of their kind not a friend
They cannot sleep with their borders to defend
The moon hidden in dark clouds not a star in sight
And the spur wing plovers cry out in the night.
And the magpie is warbling in the wind and the rain
And cloaked by the darkness the brown boobook owl cry
His mopoke call echoing in the night sky
Her secrets from us Mother Nature does keep
Her night creatures active whilst her day creatures sleep
Our wonderment of her ways only seem to grow
So little about her we do seem to know
In their breeding Season of late Winter to early Spring of the year
The flutes of the magpies at night one does hear
At breeding time males of their kind not a friend
They cannot sleep with their borders to defend
The moon hidden in dark clouds not a star in sight
And the spur wing plovers cry out in the night.
