It was where my grandma often sat
with knitting in her hand.
so proudly told the stories of our land.
It was where I learned to love
the smell of a Sunday roast of cookin'.
It was there I stole me my first kiss
when the girl next door wasn't lookin'.
It was where our cattle dog had her pups
To an unknown mangy stray
Where the neighbours came
When we gave the litter away
Singing and picking guitars
It was there I'd stand and listen to
The maggies in the pink goulash
When the day's rays gently end
we could listen to the crickets sing
Peanuts and peas in a pot,
I've shelled them by the store
I'd listen to the rain on the old tin roof
that covered the veranda floor
An old lightbulb hung down from a beam
and lit up the wooden step
Somehow Mum knew to leave it on
whenever late nights were kept
It was where our uncle cut our hair
with the old -time barber clippers
parked three -wheeler bikes
when we were only nippers
It was where Mum hung the wet bath towel
to dry on the timber rail
It was there Dad hung his hat and
coat by the door on a rusty nail
We'd sit and watch the sun go down
when the day's rays gently end
Then later on underneath the moon
we could listen to the crickets sing
Then later on underneath the moon
we could listen to the crickets sing
