To sit in the silence
Remembering the times of yesterday
Around a camp fire of gold and crimson flames
High on the Snowy Mountain Plains
Listen to the wind in the night
You will hear the cattlemen’s ghosts
Whispering of a time long past
Where legends were born
Listen to the forgotten winds of time
Whispering through the gum trees
With untold tales from yesterday
Telling of a time long past
Of when the cattlemen were young in stride
Mustering their herds in the high country
A land hard and wild
The Snowy Mountain Plains
Listen closely to the wind
To the bush whispering the forgotten tales
The secrets which have never told
You will hear the silent truth
Of the old cattlemen's souls
Listen to the wind in the mountains high
The voices of the ghosts
Of the bushmen riding wild
The thundering hooves of their horses in flight
The whips cracking
Echoing over through the high plains
In the silence of the night
In the moving shadows in the dark
The cattlemen still bring the herds
On home before the winters rain
The stories are told
Of an old mans past
The misty memories clouded by age
Of a time no longer lived
His bones are old and weary now
The life styles of the high plain cattlemen
Are only tales that are now told
That will forever last
In the hearts
Of the young who listen to the secrets
In the winds on the high Snowy Mountain Plains
