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Homesick In Geelong

She cannot hear the currawong
In the shopping centres of Geelong
Nor yellow robin piping low
Where the traffic buzzes to and fro.

Yet by her parents home in the freshening breeze
Upon the sunlit wattle trees
In her flights of fancy she can hear
The butcherbird pipe loud and clear.

She has lived in Geelong since last May
And though her old home only ninety kilometres away
Nostalgia as it would appear
Cannot measure distance far or near.

She works as a secretary for a Geelong City lawyer
This teenager from the Southern Grampians shire
Just eighteen years on her last birthday
And perhaps she's in Geelong for to stay.

Jobs in her small country town so few
And nothing there for her to do
And her nostalgia will fade in time
Long before she will have reached her prime.

From her office desk along the street below
She hear the noisy cars buzz to and fro
But she cannot hear the voice of the currawong
And she is feeling homesick in Geelong.

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