Pheasant Country from Black Dog by Oscar Lush

Out here it's pheasant country. They raise the young ones for the hunting.
And with their rifles locked and loaded, they show them a freedom short and sweet.
Maybe that's how all freedoms should be.

And one winter the river flooded and washed away all of the ducklings.
And the same with their mother, and their father was seen in town.
But no ducks have lived on the river for years now.

I heard Scarlet broke the towel rack, up in the famous pink room.
Climbing through the window, mud on the carpet;
at least that's what your grandmother believes.

But you've got a different story - for every room, another glory.
Days wasted on the front lawn, playing crochet.
Hiding thimbles in strange places in the living room.

And though some of us are gone now, from this life and from this old house.
All your words they bring them right down, till their right here--
right beside us. Till they're swinging in the park.

• Acoustic
• Alternative
• alternative folk
• alternative folk rock
• singer-songwriter
• Melbourne