| <Lee Kernaghan> page <Hat Town> album page |
Changi BanjoWell the old man died in the summer when the grass was dry and brownThe long hard road he'd travelled had finally reached the end He was out on the veranda writing letters to his daughters When he heard the curlew calling and he just put down his pen Well he did two years in Changi in the big Pacific War He'd been to hell and back again somehow came though it all His most prized possession was the banjo that he made As he built it all around him he watched his comrades fall He'd play the Changi bango made of tin The bridge piece was the Rising Sun from off his slouch hat brim Had a broomstick neck and nails to pick his strings To the memory of is fallen mates, the Changi banjo rings When he came ashore in Sydney like a ghost of skin and bones No-one recognised the man behind the haunted face No-one knows the sorrows, only he could tell Of how he's taking one last journey to rest with his old mates He'll play his Changi banjo made of tin The bridge piece was the Rising Sun from off his slouch hat brim Had a broomstick neck and nails to pick his strings To the memory of is fallen mates, the Changi banjo rings He'll play his Changi banjo made of tin The bridge piece was the Rising Sun from off his slouch hat brim Had a broomstick neck and nails to pick his strings To the memory of is fallen mates, the Changi banjo rings To the memory of is fallen mates, the Changi banjo rings |