We were soldier sailor convicts. We were soldier, sailor convicts, We were settlers looking for land, We were strangers to Australia; Such a hungry, motley band. We were homesick for our country, For a distant fam'ly we'd pray, So we made it look like Europe, So cold on Christmas day. Chorus With a rye-dye diddle I diddle I dye, With a rye dye diddle I day. But we came to love this country, With its drought and desert and stone, With its cyclones and its forests; We learnt to call it home. When it came to Federation, We went stepping out on our own, But still we dreamed at Christmas, That Europe was our home. Now they tell me down in Hobart, They've seen snow on Christmas day; It's been white upon the mountain, For Santa and his sleigh. But us mortals on the mainland, Have a different story to tell: We might well as wish for winter, As ice cubes down in hell. Now the dingo, snake and numbat, Quite enjoy the Christmas heat, When Santa takes his presents Up every Aussie street, When the sun burns down upon us, Each Australian girl and boy. And we wish you all this Christmas, Such festive summer joy Leigh Newton © 1999 To hear this & many more of Leighs songs please visit his web site. http://www.leighnewton.com/index.html