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Bush Fire ©

R.E. MacRae
New South Wales, Australia

The fire had left very little,
as it roared off down the track.
We'll say goodbye to the fire now boys,
but we'll catch it, up on the mountain's back.

We will go by Bryant's lane,
and hold it at their fence.
Be quick my lads no time to stand,
up there where the smoke is dense.

It's there we'll find what men we are,
our courage will ebb and flow.
We offer our lives to stop the threat,
we'll help the ones who are slow.

This fire my lads is battle royal,
not of our making or wooing,
like all battles, a sense of unreal,
but we're here, it's there, let's get doing.

It may stop, as it started, without us,
the challenge is there for us all.
We can take it, do battle and lose.
Or we may fight, and win after all.

To the firegood men, travel swiftly,
care not if we lose or win,
the excitement will carry us on,
we'll depth our spirit in the firey din.

Some may see danger and falter,
the fire will gain while they do.
Others give all to the fray,
see nought, but victory in view.

The fire is not the real enemy,
but a chance to measure our kind,
to see if we meet our standards,
and can live with the truth we find.

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