The Place I Call Home

Light, chasing and dancing over leaves;
Weaving through branches and boughs.
Here is the place I call home.

The sound of water carving its way;
Harmonising among the bird calls.
Here is the place I call home

Taste of fresh rain hanging in the air;
Warning of storms to come.
Here is the place I call home.

I cling to the eucalypt, watching over the land;
I can see all from up high.
Here is the place I call home.

I am on of the last of my kind;
Yet I still hold onto hope;
For here it the place I call home,
Opening its arms to all