Wittenoom

With a dozen flowers
I take a walk to Wittenoom
And I can only wonder what you all had

History is just waiting to fill my mind
History is waiting somewhere to tell me of your kind

I go to the top of the hill
While looking down at the ones that have served their time
The flowers fall freely from my arms and hands
Letting them fall across the land
With the help of the wind
To the resting place of you all