Eric Bogle Bushfire
About nine o'clock we saw the first smoke stain the far horizon A soft rolling shroud of shifting white cloud above the mountains rising Uneasy and afraid we watched and we prayed as the clouds grew ever higher And round about noon they'd blocked out the sun and the mountains were on fire Refrain: Bushfire - ah, ah, bushfire And all through the gloom of that long afternoon the fire fed and grew stronger Driven by the wind it danced along the mountain rims roaring out it's anger Fed by the breeze and the helpless trees, consuming those who bore it It raced pell-mell from the mouth of hell, destroying all before it Our farm, or home and all that we owned lay in the path of that fiery river We prayed for rain and we cursed the wind as it drove our destruction nearer But no words of men can bring down the rain or set the wind to turning And around midnight we'd lost the fight, and our whole farm was burning Through the smoke and the heat came the crying of the sheep as the flames set them on fire They ran terrified, they roasted and they died, their own fleece their funeral pyre So we packed up and ran while the fire's red hand reached hungrily out to find us While so long and hard to build and so quick and easily killed our home burned down behind us Arrogant man he squats upon the land, he buys and sells and zones it Cuts down weeds, plants his seeds, and imagines that he owns it For 40 years our land we'd cleared, we ploughed and sowed and tamed it Now where the bushfire's passed, there's only black ash, and Nature has reclaimed it
