But the magpies are singing in Yangery today
Their familiar fluting notes floating in the cool breeze
On a weather temperature high of only fifteen degrees
Though Winter is only a few weeks away
The paddocks looking quite green in Yangery in May
The black and white magpies larks singing pee wee
In Yangery them one does often hear and see
A place that has inspired the writers of song, story and rhyme
That was very old even in the Dreamtime
Named in honour of the Yangery tribe an indigenous race
Which was to them home and their tribal place
The sun it is hidden behind clouds of gray
And the magpies are singing in Yangery today.
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