Legends are not just stories,
And some still do exist...
Especially about some men,
That really takes a twist...
It starts some months ago,
In an old abandoned mine...
They were keen go back down below,
To that old decline...
Although it was closed for years,
There was still more copper they could reap...
The only bloody hurdle,
It was down a little deep...
So they needed good few men,
Who weren't afraid to have a go...
To come out to Mount Dore,
And work for Ivanhoe...
So they searched high and low,
And found a bloke named Peter Lynch...
He was stubborn as a mule,
And they knew he wouldn't flinch...
They left old Pete in charge,
He had to bandy up a crew...
So he scratched his head and thought,
About a bunch of mates,
Of which he knew...
There was Kenny,
He was the senior crafty as a fox...
Another bloke named Danny,
He was strong as a bloody ox...
The next mate was Gerry,
A good old roustabout...
But you had to keep him on the dry,
Or he would suffer from the gout...
Lenny was the next fella,
He was the smartarse of the bunch...
He would have a crack at anything,
But he had to stop for lunch....
And then there was Vic,
A wirey little fellow...
He could go hard all day,
With a hearts a soft as mellow...
And there’s also another Lenny ,
A good boiley too at that...
He good while he is working,
But he loves to have a chat...
And not to mention Michael Stenning,
I suppose he’ll have to do...
A little wet behind the ears,
But he can run this motley crew...
So Pete gathered all his men,
And he told them of his dream...
And how they would become,
Starra’s mighty team...
Together they worked miracles,
To open up that mine...
Although the work was tough,
You didn't hear them whine...
First clearing out the bats,
That made this place their home...
These men they worked wonders,
Wherever they did roam...
The mine was stripped of services,
There was poly pipe by the mile...
As they dragged them out the portal,
To stack them in a pile...
Then the rehab mining had begun,
With precision and great care...
As they stripped the backs and sides,
The smell of explosives in the air....
But their run was short lived,
As the contractors had arrived...
The Jumbo was laid to rest,
And they all felt a bit deprived...
Then suddenly they had a problem,
There was water everywhere...
The decline it was flooded,
The contractors were in despair...
So once again they rallied,
Quickly devising a master plan...
Carrying pumps down the ladder ways,
To where the water ran...
Then with excitement in their eyes,
The water started dropping...
And they kept the levels down,
Those pumps were never stopping...
So the contractors were all happy,
As they mined their many metres...
And those mighty men of Starra,
Were pumping water by the litres...
Now a days things are a little quiet,
Their all awaiting for a call...
To face the next great challenge,
Whether it be big or flamin small...
So that is the legend,
Of this bunch of old misfits...
They can tackle any job,
Even if it gives them all the shits...
Len Newey 2012