Silvery Hill
Paul Ivor Jones, Michael Davies
Satellites crashed in the heat and the dust
Now they lie coated in country rust
Falcon flies so high and hangs so perfectly still
Winter again on Silvery Hill
Grassland bleached and the bracken brown
Birds they flock over to the town
Creeks are rising high and ripe to overspill
Winter again on Silvery Hill
Winter again on Silvery Hill
Cover up from the razor winds
That cut to the bone as they merrily sing
Blue rag pony and a ghostface mare
Move as slow as a taxman's tears
Gunmetal cloud, gunmetal cloud in for the kill
Winter again on Silvery Hill
Winter again on Silvery Hill