Down on the river Thompson
Where hardly any water flows
Is the township of Heyfield
Where the timber workers roam

On the north side of this river
Grew up this timber town
But beyond on the south side
There was only farms around

Back in the old days
Not that many years ago
It depends how you count them
But more than ten fingers and ten toes

With its own butter factory
And a dozen mills or so
This town sure had its glory
Sometimes its doubts and woes

Oh what a breed of people
Whom lived toiled and died
Right down to present generations
Still struggling to survive

There are tales of forgotten eras
Of tough men and women now gone
All though there are many
Whom still struggle on

Of footballers there were many
That were good enough for VFL
They took that step to the big smoke
And played on those big grounds

I’m told of the sport pugilism
Many came from far and wide
To try their luck against our Tex and Frec
Hardly any ever survived

Blood city was an apt name
For this small rural town
Where hard work, and hard drinking
Was constantly around
Coming to the present times
Farms and mills still abound
There are many more businesses
Grown up in this great town

Where the sports men and women
Are as good as any in this land
And the publicans keep wondering
How do they drink so many cans?

The past and the present
Laid down before your eyes
This town will not go down in history
Towns like this don’t die.


Brendan Graham

Lilydale, Australia

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  • Lisa  Jewell
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