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The north wind is tossing the leaves.
The red dust is over the town;
The sparrows are under the eaves,
And the grass in the paddock is brown;
As we lift up our voices and sing,
To the Christ-child the heavenly King.
The tree ferns in green gullies sway;
The cool stream flows silently by;
The joy bells are greeting the day,
And the chimes are adrift in the sky,
As we lift up our voices and sing,the carol The North Wind
To the Christ-child the heavenly King.
Cicada song throbs from the trees,
The waves dance their way to the sand,
The gulls wildly swoop o’er the sea
And the heat shimmers low on the land.
As we lift up our voices and sing
To the Christ-child the heavenly King!
The sunset is painting the sky,
The roos venture out from the shade,
Cocka-toos fill the air with their cry;
Join the chorus of thanks for the day!
As we lift up our voices and sing
To the Christ-child the heavenly King!
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