Stan Rogers - The rawdon hills

^AWorn down shacks of ^Glabour past, on a ^Dhill of broken stone^G Once ^Dbrought by men to the ^Emstamping mills to ^Gcrush away the gol^Ad But bef^Aore it could pass ^Gto their sons, the ^Dglory left the ^Ehole The ^GRawdon Hills ^Aonce were touched by ^Ggold ^D

^AGrandsons of the mini^Gng men, scratch the fiel^Dds among the tree^Gs When the ^Dgold played out, they were ^Emall turned out with ^Ggranite dusted knees^{A G}But at night around the stoves, sometimes the ^Dstories still ^Aunfold ^GThe Rawdon Hills once ^Awere touched by ^Ggold ^D

^AGrandsons of the ^Emmining men, you'll ^Dsee it in your dreams ^CBeneath your father's ^Embones still lies ^Dthe undiscovered seam ^COf Quartzite, in a serpentine vein that ^Dmarks the greatest yield And ^Galong the Midland railway, it's still ^Atold How the ^GRawdon Hills ^Aonce were touched by ^Ggold ^D

^AEighty years has ^Gbeen and gone since there was ^Dcolor in the hole^G And the ^Dcareworn shades of the ^Emhard-rock men^G surround the old Cope^A lode And ^Gthrough the tiny ^Ahillside farms, the ^Dminer's tales grow ^Aold ^GThe Rawdon Hills ^Aonce were touched by ^Ggold ^GThe Rawdon Hills ^Aonce were touched by ^Ggold^D