Remember back in the early sixties
The ridge was a scrap metal dump
Wasteland without a decent tree-
At the periphery workshops recycled
Banged and hammered, welded
Old steel joists and car body parts,
Household junk, permanently carked-it
Hot water systems, corrugated roofs
Pipes, bathtubs from the iron age,
Washing machines, fridges and
Vacuums found their way to appliance heaven
While the insides of ruined Pye
Television sets were kicked down
The hillside for sport. Waste wire was
Restored by a cottage wire industry
Sparks flew up, out back
Apprentices scraped rust and gunk
How metal flowed sweetly, and everyone
Was handy, the drills and steel-cutters buzzed
Junk-a-junk-there was smash repair
Domestic nail and bolt manufacture, as
Far as earnings went it all added up
To an almost worthwhile enterprise
But the scrap mountain grew quicker
Than the workshops could break it down
There was real estate all around
So the responsible authority
Ordered the lot buried under a mountain of earth
And trees planted on top-
Forest grew quickly and today,
After a big rain has shifted the clay
Exposing a snow gum's roots
There'll be a rusted-out Austin
Or the roof of a Valiant,
A web of cyclone fencing
Relic of glorious metal days
Rest of the junk compresses under
Ghost gums, rough grass and walking trails.
Today fresh air grows from it
And the odd, unexterminated rabbit
Flashes out of sight.