But the paddocks are green in old Yangery today
And the magpies are warbling on the tall gum trees
Their familiar music is carrying in the breeze
That blow from the Pacific foreshore nearby
Up from Illowa across the gray sky
On this August day of a slight wintery chill though dry
The countryside looking so green after rain in late July
Home to the Yangery tribe long ago
Going back in time two centuries or so
For thousands of years Yangery to them homeplace
Today only remembered as a south west coastal race
On an August day in Yangery in late Winter of the year
The warbling of the magpies is so pleasant to hear.
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