The Old Bark Tree

Down in the Dandenong you will see,

A yodeler yodelling to an old bark tree.

A golden tune, nestling in the leaves.

A golden hand, fulfilling their pleas.

Helping them run out of the ground,

Helping them with his sound.

A saint he is, with everything to give,

Without a penny he will live.

Dedicated to the forests,

Where he finally rests.

Forming with the ground,

He.

A guardian of the old bark tree.

Everybody could help,

But they won't.

Even a billionaire,

Just doesn't care.

Only the yodeler yodels to his tree,

Only he will see,

That this is the place of his old bark tree.