Time will crumble ancient sandstone ramparts -
In rocky ruin to the valley floor below;
Oldest forest spirit - the ghost departs-
Silver serpent in mountain stream will flow;-
Words could scarce do justice -nor any arts-
Grey gums, ghost gums - seldom winter snow;
Land so old - that time itself stood still -
I've always loved her - and I guess I always will.

Behold wild cliff faces - tumble down through time;-
Burnished orange in the Sun's reflected glow,
Her face turned to the light - in each season's clime;-
Tufts of mist 'cross each craggy rocky brow;-
Vapours dissolve in the morning sunshine -
Quick look at those clouds of cotton wool!
Before the day's full burning heat does banish-
All mists into the air do quickly vanish.

Gum trees wild and sprawling to the cliff's edge-
In a rough green carpet to the valley floor,
The windblown scrub and toughest mountain sedge -
A straight drop of six hundred feet or more;-
Step close to danger - on a sheer rocky ledge -
(An ancient sea - in a time long gone before)
Great mountain range now soft with a blue haze;
Eucalyptus dancing on the summer breeze.