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Through a window, where I stare upon a yard that needs a mow There I am - the youngster with the grin from ear to ear Although those days have left me now, the memories are clear Of a willow hurled in spirals to the call of "Hills or Flats" By a kid who knows for certain - if he wins the toss, he bats On a track where something well pitched up could whistle past your scone Where no man got out 'leg before' though 'nick behind' was gone 'One hand off the house' was fair, the road was 'six and out' And that six was often worth it if the fruit was there to clout "Hit the car - you're gone my friend - the shed is that way son!" In the name of the backyard cricket, geez we had some bloody fun Your neighbours were the Poms of course, and you, the mighty "Chappells" To be bowled by one's own brother was the ultimate in shame An until you knocked his melon off, you hadn't cleared your name Then, sometimes when you took the crease, you'd face like Allan Border If you were naturally right handed, there were problems made to order Still, you'd raise your bat to barking dogs when runs were flowing freely While the keeper chewed your ear off like his idols, Marsh and Healy To bowl and stare like Thommo often had the batsman itchy As you 'walked the walk' like David Boon and 'talked the talk' like Richie You'd shout HOWZAT like DK did and chew the gum like Viv For the sake of dreams, there was nothing that a player wouldn't give From the boyhood dreams of Bradman to the yards of kids today Where, once, they played like Morris, Brown and Miller for their scores Today they star as Glen McGrath, as Warney, or the Waughs Remember all those years ago in days of make believe When your country's hopes depended on the magic you could weave? A record score was needed and the odds they said were 'zero' But they didn't know the script was being written by the hero As the winning runs were belted down behind the barbecue You wondered in your wildest dreams if fairytales came true But that's the land we live in and the people that we've been And the glitter at the rainbow's end well, that's the baggy green And just ask Adam Gilchrist if that dream was worth his while Just ask Justin Langer - and I bet you'll get a smile. And gazing out my window, now it gives me inspiration Yes, I think I'll tape the old ball up and mow myself a wicket Then I'll ring the boys - "The square's prepared - let's play ourselves some cricket!
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