I hear the monotonous cawings of the glossy pale eyed crow
And the sweet flute of the magpie where the Hopkins River flow
Through green and fertile coastal lands near Warrnambool to the sea
I love this grand old Country 'tis home from home for me
This very ancient Country that inspire story, song and rhyme
It was a very old Land even in the Dreaming Time
Where the Indigenous people had their Corroborees
In warm Summer evenings in the shadow of the trees
On the last day of September a near to perfect day
The coot and musk duck for their food diving on the Hopkins waterway
Such beauty that's in Nature that inspires writers to write
Stories and poems for others to read and to recite
Of where the Hopkins River ever slowly winds it's way
To the great Pacific ocean every night and every day.
And the sweet flute of the magpie where the Hopkins River flow
Through green and fertile coastal lands near Warrnambool to the sea
I love this grand old Country 'tis home from home for me
This very ancient Country that inspire story, song and rhyme
It was a very old Land even in the Dreaming Time
Where the Indigenous people had their Corroborees
In warm Summer evenings in the shadow of the trees
On the last day of September a near to perfect day
The coot and musk duck for their food diving on the Hopkins waterway
Such beauty that's in Nature that inspires writers to write
Stories and poems for others to read and to recite
Of where the Hopkins River ever slowly winds it's way
To the great Pacific ocean every night and every day.
