| There were three young brothers
|
| Who hailed from yonder east
|
| They’d cross the hills of red gums trees
|
| And ride their demon beasts
|
| They knew the trails and read them
|
| Like the back of their hand
|
| Waiting for a wanderer
|
| To idly cross their land
|
| Every time they’d find them
|
| They’d tie them to this tree
|
| Brothers of the mountain
|
| From yonder to the sea
|
| Along the tracks they’d speed
|
| Dust flew up at their heels
|
| Their lips curled up with malice
|
| Their eyes lit up with greed
|
| Till finally a horse came rolling
|
| Across a sunburnt plain
|
| And almost reached their forest
|
| Before turning back again
|
| Every time they’d find em
|
| They’d tie them to this tree
|
| Brothers of the mountain
|
| From yonder to the sea
|
| He jumped from his horse, and he lifted his hands
|
| And he threw all his gold toward the trees
|
| The brothers leapt out and they fought for the spoils
|
| And the wanderer crept on his knees
|
| They finally came to their senses
|
| When their stomachs started to ache
|
| Their possessions were gone and a note that was left
|
| Told them that the gold had been fake
|
| Every time they’d find em
|
| They’d tie them to this tree
|
| Brothers of the mountain
|
| From yonder to the sea |