All is not well on the Gwabegar line With last years' wheat still there The galahs are feasting through holes in the tarp And the weevils are taking their share The 'pub-talk'that is doing the 'rounds' Would bring a lump to a 'pollies' throat Shift it by road to Narrabri Or we'll deal with you when we vote The railway line to Gwabegar Follows the Castlereagh From the once busy sheds and railway yards Of the town of Binnaway The railway was the heart of this town Prosperity, sound as a rock But the end of the line put the town in decline Now it survives on wheat and livestock

The stop at the end of the line at Gwabegar. (26/11/1997) © Rolfe Bozier

Ulamambri is the next little town
Where I spent many hours in the 'line-up'
The longer the queue, the bigger the crops grew
As we waited for a train to turn up
And old 'Boody' Harvey, as deaf as a post
Would walk down the line with flies humming
He'd lay flat on the track, then come racing back
To tell us, “the wheat train was coming”

Next comes the pull with the throttle out full The fireman shovels more coal in The hills echo back the clicketty-clack As the engine goes puffing and rolling The engineer waves to the kids by the track And the whistled salute goes to plan Chuff-chuff-chuff to the top of the range Then roll down to Coonabarabran On it goes along the Pilliga Scrub See ironbark, pine and witchety grub The leafy domain of the evergreen Past Bugaldie to Baradine Now the last stage — Lord it can't be far Through Kenebri to Gwabegar But the rails are rusting from lack of use Repairs replaced by lame excuse

The paymaster delivering the Baradine Sleeper pay. Note the sleeper stacks in the background. Photo by Frank Twyford of the Timber Inspector's Office at Baradine - 30 July 1926

The silo committee at Baradine
Is none too pleased at what they've seen
Long years of neglect of this great resource
(maybe they'd better go back to the horse)
The government has made it's position clear
They'll sell Freightcorp some time next year
Let the private sector close down the line
And their 'crocodile tears' will flow like wine

“It wasn't our fault” will be their plea
But the truth is known to you and me