Sometimes I sit and remember good times
in a faraway land. Heading down to Bega,
driving through the great dividing range.
glistening roadways leading me into glorious
valleys, whist listening to music on the radio.
No one to answer too, no one knowing where you are.
Rain sweeping along one side of the valley, sunshine
lighting up the opposite side, there in the middle am I.
Cruising along at peace with myself, the world ceases too
exist in the mountainous ranges. This land down under is wonderment.
Cresting a hill, I see in the distance Mount Kosciuszko topped with snow.
Cooma town leads me on to the brown Mountains and the bega valley.
Snakelike the roadways drops 3000 feet into the valley.
Stop in Bemboka, shop for crystals, then head into the bush,
ahead lie the hills were you can relax, watch eagles in free flight
making use of the uplifts as they effortlessly glide past you.
Such is the peace, beauty and wonderment of this land down under.
Glimpse the Tasman sea, 'Australia’ truly the lucky country.
