East of Nowhere

Somewhere east of nowhere stands a rust encrusted shed In a paddock full of weeds by a tumbledown homestead A windmill goes on turning though the bore has long run dry and the fence posts are still standing where the bones of cattle lie Here a man once fed his family Here a wife once made a home and children grew to adulthood on land they called their own Lying round the paddock are reminders of their lives A wagon wheel, a broken toy some rusted skinning knives The corrugated shearing shed where ringers walked like lords Is cluttered now with tumbleweeds and termite ridden boards No clue remains to tell us of their fate or where they are just a tumbledown old homestead somewhere east of Marble Bar From my PDF book "Bush Ballads and Bulldust"