by John Williamson

Where ancient mountains are whittled down
Millions of years to a little mound
Where giant feet are fossil found
I see spinifex surfing on a dune,
The rock is redder in the afternoon
Tourists clicking madly soon

Where spring will come with any rain
A chance to flower and seed again
Forever garden risin' plain
The dangers of the wild remain

And away up there where the wind is blown
Never before felt so alone
More aware of skin and bone
I watch the parade of human folk
Strips of rubber, cans of Coke
Making dust and blowing smoke

Where the awe-inspiring power of time
Leave some fearful, some sublime
White man finds his progress prime
Black man feels no urge to climb

Now I believe we all are one
Features and creatures in the sun
Breathing the air we all belong
I have a dream I can't explain
Wattle soldiers, making claim
And paradise returns again

© 1989 Emusic Pty Ltd

Listen to a
RealAudio™ Sample of
ANCIENT MOUNTAINS

"This song came to me the second time I was at Uluru, Northern Territory. The huge rock (actually the earth's surface up-turned) is awe-inspiring. You can take all day walking around it. The local indigenous people from there apparently do not climb The Rock and nowadays it is generally not climbed out of respect.

It occurred to me at the time how different aborigines are to the Celts. For instance; many of our so-called explorers were Scottish of which I am a descendant on my Dad's side. And 'us lot' love to climb to the top of every hill; to conquer it so to speak. I guess after forty thousand years our indigenous mates didn't need to climb or conquer anything. It was all just a part of them.

As you walk around Uluru you can understand how all the amazing gigantic features would have meaning of their own. Hundreds of stories to be handed down."