Tower Hill

The black swans and mountain ducks and their young out swimming on the lake
And the magpies and the blackbirds in the grayness of daybreak
Are piping their familiar notes on the gum and wattle trees
The calm morning air full of the music of their pleasant melodies
To the descendants of the local first Australians Tower Hill is a sacred place
Their history too old for historians their history to trace
Many centuries ago in the sheltered wooded valleys they had their corroborees
On warm Summer evenings they danced in the shade of the trees
Centuries before South West Victoria and Tower Hill were given an English name
People lived in this part of Australia long before the colonizers came
In their big sailing ships from Northern Lands far away
The illegal migrants ancestors of the fair skinned Aussies of today
The music of birdsong on the bushes and trees
On a cool September morning in Tower Hill of around fourteen degrees.