The Southern Cross will lead me home
if I should ever stray.
Its guiding light will help me through
and see me on my way.

Back to where the wattle blooms
to where the ghost gums sway.
To where the sky is red and gold
at closing of the day.

Back to golden sunlit sands
that shimmer on the beach.
Back to where a peaceful life
is not beyond my reach.

To where the old man emu sits
beneath a shady tree.
To where the never ending plain
will set my spirit free.

Back to where the fields of grain
are ripe beneath the sun.
To everlasting summer days
and winter on the run.

To stand beneath the evening sky
beneath the Southern Cross.
Just give me wings and I will fly
before the chance is lost.