|
I’ve seen the struggle of the daring ones
|
Seen the work wrought with calloused hands
|
Seen a world that clung so desperately
|
In days that now have passed
|
|
I’ve seen the rusting iron once so proud
|
Seen the fields they cleared tree by tree
|
Seen the remnants of their industry
|
In days that now have passed
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
All that’s gone before us seems so easily forgotten
|
The sweat that dripped on dusty soil’s
|
remembered by so few
|
But women, men and children died
|
To open up the countryside
|
It seems as if their memory is fading from our view
|
|
They saw their houses built stone by stone
|
They saw their families watch hungrily
|
They saw the rains come and thanked the Lord
|
In days that now have passed
|
|
They saw the tracks they came by turn to roads
|
They saw the traders come and watched towns grow
|
They saw the railway open up the land
|
In days that now have passed
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
I see the semis on the asphalt road
|
I see the comfort of the passing cars
|
I see them speeding past the outskirts of
|
The days that now have passed
|
|
I see the local people watch the change
|
I see their lives reflect what’s gone before
|
I see them as perhaps the final link
|
To the days that now have passed
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Progress
|
| Colin Buchanan |
