Oh, this is a song of the old lights, that came to my
heart like a hymn;
And this is a song for the old lights, the lights that
we thought grew dim,
That came to my heart to comfort me, and I pass it
along to you;
And here is a hand to the dear old friend who turns up
as good as new.
And this is a song for the campfire, out west where the
stars shine bright,
Oh, this is a song for the campfire, where the old
mates yarn to-night;
Where the old mates yarn of the old days, and their
numbers are all too few,
And this is a song for the great old times that will
turn up as good as new.
Oh, this is a song for the black sheep, for the black
sheep that fled from town,
And this is a song for the brave heart, for the brave
heart that lived it down;
And this is a song for the battler, for the battler who
sees it through,
And this is a song for the broken heart that turns up
as good as new.
Ah, this is a song for the brave mate, be he Bushman,
Scot, or Russ,
A song for the mates we will stick to, for the mates
who have stuck to us;
And this is a song for the old creed, to do as a man
should do,
Till the Lord takes us all to a wider world, where
we'll turn up as good as new.
