The Swagman

The Swag-man On the north side of the river The water tumbles silver slivers The rocks just peeking out to form a rapid fall The waters speeding over the top of the new born water fall The south side of the river The calm waters waiting there The flows of silver slivers reflections are beyond compare. The golden autumn leaves reflecting in the river Australia summer is going to sleep but not yet time to shiver The swagman packs his swag to find a winter bed The tune of Waltzing Matilda perhaps dancing in his head He heading out beyond the black stump He’s not sure of where he’ll park his rump He’ll travel where work can be found And park himself till spring comes round.