Bushtown

36 Africa Street in Bushtown
Number, a name and a street
That old Bushtown has tumbled down
And overgrown with concrete

I was born in old Bushtown without a claim to fame
I don't think that anyone could quite recall my name
I grew up with a mongrel pup and fishing hooks and line
Winding tracks and treehouse shacks, and Africa was mine

36 Africa Street in Bushtown
Number, a name and a street
That old Bushtown has tumbled down
And overgrown with concrete

I remember rainy nights and drums across the sky
And I'd get lost in my kaross, so frightened I could cry
I remember the blazing days, a drought and once a flood
My first sight of a bar-room fight, of dead men and of blood

36 Africa Street in Bushtown
Number, a name and a street
That old Bushtown has tumbled down
And overgrown with concrete

First time I left that place was in a Model A
We rolled down to another town 'bout 30 miles away
Moonlight showed up a two-track road, the middle grass was high
I felt the stump ripping off the sump and the radiator ran dry

36 Africa Street in Bushtown
Number, a name and a street
That old Bushtown has tumbled down
And overgrown with concrete

36 Africa Street in Bushtown
Number a name and a street
That old Bushtown has tumbled...