Lyrics
Hey-o, hey-o… Low tide on the channel… Hey-o, hey-o…
They swam the cattle over On a low and yellow tide Ropes around the shoulder And the keepers at their side Five hundred metres running Between the mainland and the stone And the beasts came up the granite Where no beast had ever known
There was good grass on the island There was rain enough and more So they drove them through the shallows To the pink and shining shore
And the cattle cut the road home Through the grass to the granite shore And the little ones come walking Where the big ones went before Oh Gaybo, Gaybo Hold your light above the foam For the ones still on the water And the ones that walk home
Banksia in the middle Honey myrtle standing thick Herbland on the headland Where the salt wind cuts it quick They cut her from her own bones Rolled the granite up the rise Forty-seven metres standing Hard against the sky
And the light goes round, the light goes round Above the boiling stone Every turn a promise That the sea will send them home
And the cattle cut the road home Through the grass to the granite shore And the little ones come walking Where the big ones went before Oh Gaybo, Gaybo Hold your light above the foam For the ones still on the water And the ones that walk home
Then the kikuyu came in seventy-two On a boot and on a wheel Green as any pasture Deep as any field It is walking through a snowdrift When it grows above the knee And it closed the little doorways Of the burrows by the sea
So the cattle keep on grazing Thirteen head against the green Hooves upon the hillside Cutting lines that can be seen And at dusk from Santa Barbara Come the small ones from the swell Half a kilometre climbing On the roads the cattle fell
And the roos come over at low water And the deer come swimming through And the shearwaters in their thousands Fall out of the blue Every living thing that wants her Has to cross that running lane Half a mile of southern water And they come again
There are stones down in the graveyard With no letters left to read And a name upon a marker For a ship that ran to sea The seals are on the boulders The whales go rolling by And the old pink tower is counting Every hour of the sky
Oh the cattle cut the road home Through the grass to the granite shore And the little ones come walking Where the big ones went before Oh Gaybo, Gaybo Hold your light above the foam For the ones still on the water And the ones that walk home
Oh Gaybo, Gaybo Never let that light go down Till the last one off the water Finds the road home
Hey-o, hey-o… Low tide on the channel… And the road home… Hey-o…