| Up here on the slopes and plains
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| In the town of Narrabri
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| On the banks of the Namoi river
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| 'Neath the shade of the pretty bird tree
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| All my brother died, he died down there
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| Neath the willows oh so cool
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| Now he walks with our ancestors
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| Underneath the Kamillaroi moon
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| Namoi River
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| You’re home to me
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| I’ll sit with you 'neath the pretty bird tree
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| Early on in life I took to the booze
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| And drank away my dreams
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| I watched my life flow sadly by
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| Like teardrops down the drain
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| So I headed for the river, and became a river rat
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| I’d worn out all my welcomes
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| No place to lay my hat
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| Oh there was cranky Frankie and Jackie Brown
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| Boodie man Joe Creggy and me
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| Then we’d lie next day like poisoned dogs
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| All around the pretty bird tree
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| Namoi River
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| You’re home to me
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| I’ll sit with you 'neath the pretty bird tree
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| When the hallowing wind doth wane
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| On the Namoi late at night
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| You can hear the old ones singing
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| As they dance in the pale moon light
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| Oh there were many more names I can’t recall
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| But their faces I still see
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| Old Whisper Smith’s calm face appears
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| As I dream of the pretty bird tree
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| Namoi River
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| You’re home to me
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| I’ll sit with you 'neath the pretty bird tree
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| I’ll sit with you 'neath the pretty bird tree |