The gray shrike thrush is whistling in his cloak of gray
Is he trying to tell us it might rain today?
The yellow robin clings to the trunk of an acacia tree
Whilst scanning the undergrowth hoping to see
A flying or flightless insect he knows he can eat
And that to his taste buds would taste very sweet.
Out there in the Woodland in the heat of mid day
Amongst the knee high undergrowth the grey kangaroos lay
In the cool of the evening they will venture out
For to graze in the paddocks and go on hop about.
Out there in the Woodland in their home in the ground
The wombat and her young one they sleep safe and sound
They do venture out under cover of night
In their search for food to ease their appetite.
Out there in the Woodland the grey butcherbird sing
To his bubbling notes there’s a distinctive ring
Away from the traffic the smoke and the noise
And the pollution that hover in the Urban skies.