The cool winds of June through the coastal lands blow
Across the flat paddocks where old Merri flow
Bereft of a babble it crawls on it's way
In and out of Lake Pertobe and to the Pacific at Lady Bay
How old is the Merri would anyone know?
'Twas old centuries before the birth of the first pale eyed crow
The river that has inspired writers to story and rhyme
Was old in the age of the Dinosaurs and the Dreamtime
In Summer on the banks of the Merri in the shade of the trees
Australia's first people danced their Corroborees
Since then many Seasons have come and have gone
But towards the Pacific old Merri crawls on
Near where pale eyed crow caws on a black wattle tree
Into Lake Pertobe en route to the sea.