Composed by Stan Rogers | © Fogarty’s Cove Music
Worn down shacks of labour past, on a hill of broken stone
Once brought by men to the stamping mills to crush away the gold
But before it could pass to their sons, the glory left the hole
The Rawdon Hills once were touched by gold
The grandsons of the mining men scratch the fields among the trees
When the gold played out, they were all turned out with granite dusted knees
But at night around the stoves, sometimes the stories still unfold
How the Rawdon Hills once were touched by gold
Grandsons of the mining men, you’ll see it in your dreams
Beneath your father’s bones still lies the undiscovered seam
Of Quartzite, in a serpentine vein that marks the greatest yield
And along the Midland railway, it’s still told
How the Rawdon Hills once were touched by gold
Eighty years has been and gone since there was color in the hole
And the careworn shades of the hard-rock men surround the old Cope lode
And through the tiny hillside farms, the miner’s tales grow old
The Rawdon Hills once were touched by gold