Sitting on a porch
Looking at a Pademelon
Talking 'bout Ian, talking to Pete about life and things
Sitting on a balcony
Watch the Pademelon
Looks like a rabbit to me
Peter said he’d had a lot of life
‘til now
Linda came in looking mean as a mouse
And then cracked a smile as we looked so alike
As we spoke about things and the life and plans
She gave me this leaf from a neighbor Ian
I’m going to give it to Ian, from Ian to Ian
He made a Hobson’s choice, as anyone would
Learning about the mountain top
How the sea came and atе the crown of the hill
Long beforе the great red cedars left the valley floor
High on the old volcano crest
The last of the red cedars stand alone
Where the tree callers called aloud at the pretty-pretty flowers below
Told me ‘bout the way the birds cry at night, it’s a war in the last light
Crying aloud for-for the right to rest, and the right to close their eyes
Told me bout the way they bent the corrugated iron in the rifle pit
Dug deep in a sandy hole, rifle cocked with their elbows high
He cut off his hair, came down to his thighs
In a piggy piggy tail fore going to war
He went for his wife, but she never came back
Christopher, St Mary, Emily and family, came to the party
Winifred sang a song , or would have done, if anybody’d asked her to
She said, it’s not my party, It’s Uncle John’s, it was yours to begin with
I’m watching on, I made a Hobson’s choice, as anyone would
Proud at the table, Uncle John, a one-eyed ghost
Shares his food, grown from the ground of a long-long man, from a long-long time ago
I drove to the hills, and sat with Peter
We talked about leaves, and our neighbors Ians
Sharing the undone veggie patch and plans for the great great plans
Looking at a Pademelon
Talking 'bout Ian, talking to Pete about life and things
Sitting on a balcony
Watch the Pademelon
Looks like a rabbit to me
Peter said he’d had a lot of life
‘til now
Linda came in looking mean as a mouse
And then cracked a smile as we looked so alike
As we spoke about things and the life and plans
She gave me this leaf from a neighbor Ian
I’m going to give it to Ian, from Ian to Ian
He made a Hobson’s choice, as anyone would
Learning about the mountain top
How the sea came and atе the crown of the hill
Long beforе the great red cedars left the valley floor
High on the old volcano crest
The last of the red cedars stand alone
Where the tree callers called aloud at the pretty-pretty flowers below
Told me ‘bout the way the birds cry at night, it’s a war in the last light
Crying aloud for-for the right to rest, and the right to close their eyes
Told me bout the way they bent the corrugated iron in the rifle pit
Dug deep in a sandy hole, rifle cocked with their elbows high
He cut off his hair, came down to his thighs
In a piggy piggy tail fore going to war
He went for his wife, but she never came back
Christopher, St Mary, Emily and family, came to the party
Winifred sang a song , or would have done, if anybody’d asked her to
She said, it’s not my party, It’s Uncle John’s, it was yours to begin with
I’m watching on, I made a Hobson’s choice, as anyone would
Proud at the table, Uncle John, a one-eyed ghost
Shares his food, grown from the ground of a long-long man, from a long-long time ago
I drove to the hills, and sat with Peter
We talked about leaves, and our neighbors Ians
Sharing the undone veggie patch and plans for the great great plans
( Clogs )
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