Back to where the wattle blooms
to where the ghost gums sway
To where the sky is red and gold
at closing of the day

Back to golden sunlit sands
that shimmer on the beach
Back to where a peaceful life
is not beyond my reach

To where the old man emu sits
beneath a shady tree
To where the never ending plain
will set my spirit free

Back to where the fields of grain
are ripe beneath the sun
To everlasting summer days
and winter on the run

To stand beneath the evening sky
beneath the Southern Cross
Just give me wings and I will fly
before the chance is lost