OH they’ve sent up the choppers and riflemen high
To snipe at our brumbies from up in the sky
Farewell to the black colts and baldy faced bays
And the last of the Kiandra Greys
The decision was made by those big tops, of course
Who’ve ne’er even saddled or straddled a horse
To murder our brumbies on the mountains they graze
The duns and the chestnuts and the Kiandra greys
Stock bred from bush horses...
