And ash tree now losing her leaves each day she’s looking barer
A few months back in Summer’s prime than her there was none fairer.
The magpie on the wattle tree he flutes with little passion
It is the time of year for him when song seems out of fashion
But by September he will pipe his song of his breeding season
It’s not all for joy that songbirds sing there is another reason.
In Autumn in Victoria the weather becomes cooler
And Nature in her coloured cloak she presides as the ruler
Her marvellous Queendom she surveys her colours are amazing
And Mother Nature reign supreme and her beauty is worth praising.
An Autumn day in the deep south and leaves in their millions falling
And Nature in her green and gold a memory worth recalling
And magpie he doesn’t sing as much as he does in his breeding season
And for birdsong it has been said there is another reason.