Lyrics
I came down past Betka this morning Cold wind coming off the sea Banksias shaking on the headland Black cockies somewhere in the trees
The beach looked much the same as Tuesday Till I walked a little further round There was water cutting through the sandbar Where there'd only been dry ground
I was down there three days earlier Pelicans sitting in a line Betka lying still behind them Like she'd made up her mind
Yeah, well, she changed it She generally does
Give her rain and a rising tide And Betka turns again
Betka turns again Cuts another road out to the ocean What was sand is water now What was still is set in motion
We stand there making photographs Like somehow we can make it stay But the sea keeps moving And the river keeps choosing
Betka turns again
White-bellied eagle over the entrance Barely moving on the air Oystercatchers working the shoreline Like the channel's always been there
Funny thing about a place you know well You stop expecting a surprise Then one morning someone moves the river Right there in front of your eyes
Nothing moved it but the weather Nothing asked us what we thought Water came down from the country Found the weakest bit and crossed
No ceremony No grand design Just water, sand and time
Betka turns again Cuts another road out to the ocean Brown water running into blue And half the beach is set in motion
We stand there making photographs Like somehow we can make it stay But the tide keeps working And the river keeps turning
Betka turns again
I remember summers down here Kids barefoot in the shallows Sea eagle high above the dunes And roos out past the shadows
Some winters Betka stays shut tight Dark water backing through the reeds Then the rain comes down for days And she does exactly what she needs
You make her sound like an old woman Maybe she is
Stubborn as anything You'd know about that
Maybe that's why we keep coming Same old road and same old sea Knowing full well when we get there It won't be what it used to be
There's a whale somewhere beyond the breakers Though today I can't see a thing There's a black cocky cracking banksia cones And making enough noise for ten
There's a bloke with a drone above us Wonder who that could be Trying to catch one little morning Before it runs away to sea
Betka turns again Cuts another road out to the ocean Winter river running free Dark water rolling into motion
We can fly above and film it We can come back every day But the tide keeps working And the river keeps turning
Betka turns again
Betka turns again Maybe narrower, maybe wider Maybe next week she'll close behind us Maybe she'll run a little farther
That's the thing about this coastline Never quite the same And that's probably why we love it Betka turns again
Think she'll still be open tomorrow? Come down and have a look
Betka turns again