Goodbye Mount Dore !
It’s the end of an era,
at this place that’s called Mount Dore
The dust is finally settling,
on the roofs, and on the floor
As the wind whistles through the camp,
there is no one here but me
Not a bloody soul,
it’s the strangest thing to see
All of the donga’s sit empty,
and the bar it has no beer
There is no more laughter,
there’s nothing but silence here
The camp may be closed,
but there are still many yarns to tell
Some would have called it home,
and others called it hell
And the memories that I will remember,
are the best years of my life
With my mates at Mount Dore,
away from my nagging wife
Because the friends that I have met,
when working at this mine
Seldom ever whinged,
and hardly ever whined
We all got stuck in,
everyone had a go
Even when the going was tough,
and a little slow
Now everyone has moved on,
down the road to other places
I will miss all of my mates,
and their smiling faces
But now as we shut the gates,
at this place we call Mount Dore
Just remember it’s been closed,
quite some time before !
Len Newey 2014