Cooee
Posted: Tue Apr 30, 2013 1:25 pm
Cooee
I can hear the distant bugle and the drummers steady beat
As it echo’s through the valley to the sound of marching feet
So its one more kiss for Mary and the son I’ll never see
For the foreign fields are calling me, Coo-ee
They were twenty six who set out and they called them ‘Hitchen’s Own’
And for every mile they’ve walked, one in number they have grown
And they seem so damn determined as they gather everyday
For they’ve heard about the slaughter on the beach at Suvla Bay
They are marching from Gilgandra to the Quay at Sydneyside
They are marching for the Hundreds at Gallipoli who died
They are marching with the faith of what this land will one day be
And their marching feet are calling me, Coo-ee
They have gathered in the streets to watch the volunteers file through
And the men have said their farewells and have joined up with the crew
As they set their mind to walking the three hundred mile track
Each and every one expecting that they won’t be coming back
So its goodbye to the little block I broke my back to clear
The first fruit of the orchard will be hanging there next year
It’s the promise of that future that I go to guarantee
For my countrymen are calling me Coo-ee
I can hear a distant echo through the roar of falling shell
It is calling me to rise up from the crater where I fell
I can see the face of Mary, I can smell an apple tree
As my country call me home again, Coo-ee
I can hear the distant bugle and the drummers steady beat
As it echo’s through the valley to the sound of marching feet
So its one more kiss for Mary and the son I’ll never see
For the foreign fields are calling me, Coo-ee
They were twenty six who set out and they called them ‘Hitchen’s Own’
And for every mile they’ve walked, one in number they have grown
And they seem so damn determined as they gather everyday
For they’ve heard about the slaughter on the beach at Suvla Bay
They are marching from Gilgandra to the Quay at Sydneyside
They are marching for the Hundreds at Gallipoli who died
They are marching with the faith of what this land will one day be
And their marching feet are calling me, Coo-ee
They have gathered in the streets to watch the volunteers file through
And the men have said their farewells and have joined up with the crew
As they set their mind to walking the three hundred mile track
Each and every one expecting that they won’t be coming back
So its goodbye to the little block I broke my back to clear
The first fruit of the orchard will be hanging there next year
It’s the promise of that future that I go to guarantee
For my countrymen are calling me Coo-ee
I can hear a distant echo through the roar of falling shell
It is calling me to rise up from the crater where I fell
I can see the face of Mary, I can smell an apple tree
As my country call me home again, Coo-ee
