Her hair is as dark as the wing of a crow
The girl from the place where the sugar cane grow
With a beautiful smile and lovely eyes of brown
She is a rare gift to the southern town
But in South Western Victoria she will not stay
She yearns for the coastal lands of Byron Bay
For her old Hometown homesick in her homeland
Nostalgia for place not hard to understand
That the lust for wander may be strong in some people this well may be so
But nostalgia does go with one to where-ever one does go
Her home far north of here by railroad or railway
But she will be back there by late Fall in May
Where the warm sub tropical winds through the coastal lands blow
Of Northern New South Wales where the sugar cane grow.
The girl from the place where the sugar cane grow
With a beautiful smile and lovely eyes of brown
She is a rare gift to the southern town
But in South Western Victoria she will not stay
She yearns for the coastal lands of Byron Bay
For her old Hometown homesick in her homeland
Nostalgia for place not hard to understand
That the lust for wander may be strong in some people this well may be so
But nostalgia does go with one to where-ever one does go
Her home far north of here by railroad or railway
But she will be back there by late Fall in May
Where the warm sub tropical winds through the coastal lands blow
Of Northern New South Wales where the sugar cane grow.
