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Á¦¸ñ: Kurrajong
°¡¼ö: Colin Buchanan



In his annexe made of besser bricks and corrugated iron
I can hear the roar of footy on a Saturday afternoon
Kurrajong¡¯s got his slippers on and he sips a mug of coffee
And he¡¯s glad to share the game with a little company

In his annexe made of besser bricks and corrugated iron
I hear snatches of a childhood back in Sydney years before
Kurrajong chuckles and shakes his head and lights himself a rollie
He¡¯s found himself a home now and it¡¯s time to settle down. And ...

CHORUS
When the time comes they can take me down the track to the claypan
And lay me by the windmill by the bore
Don¡¯t let their tears cloud the changes of my final years -
They can say Kurrajong you came a long, long way

In his annexe made of besser bricks and corrugated iron
An old soldier reminisces about Korea and the war
Kurrajong carries his memories and his back carries shrapnel
He fought bravely for his country. He might never have come back . But ...

CHORUS

In his annexe made of besser bricks and corrugated iron
I see Kurrajong fight a battle with a habit that won¡¯t die
But Kurrajong knows it won¡¯t be long and the battle will be over
He¡¯s not afraid to fight till then, and he¡¯s not afraid to die

Kurrajong you came a long, long way,
A long long way
Kurrajong you came a long - long - way


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Kurrajong
Colin Buchanan



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