w Graham Seal m trad adapted G Seal copyright 2015
My name is Raven Hollingsworth
Born here 60 years ago
We farm the flats along the creek
Soon be leaving though
A hundred hands have worked this land
Since my father’s fathers time
A hundred harvests have been won
Through seasons out of mind
We fought the fires and we fought the floods
We beat the droughts as well
But we couldn’t fight those city banks
They beat us all to hell
A hundred hands have worked this land
Since my fathers’ father’s time
A hundred harvests have been won
Through seasons out of mind
They say the town is closing down
People leaving in despair
Pack their things and drive away
God alone knows where
A hundred hands have worked this land
Since my father’s father’s time
A hundred harvests have been won
Through seasons out of mind
When the old ones walked upon this land
They kept its secrets so long
Carved into the sacred stones
Singing in their songs
So many hands have touched this land
Held so long in time
But who will hold it dear again
And who will call it mine?
Who will hold it dear again
And who will call it mine?
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