[INTRO -instrumental] [Verse one] Silent sentries, standing tall Lined around the boundary Protection for one and all I can see the farmer of old in a quandary Which to use, blood-wood or cedar? Blood-wood was the choice, same as around the laundry Rot would make a ghost of cedar Dampness sinking down below So he chose the forest leader [Verse two] Deep where the briars grow He hunts a trunk that's straight For heavy teams to tow To guard the paddock gate He swings a wedge of steel To outlast any date The working man can feel The heavy timber crack He splits the log with zeal [Chorus] Oh, the cedar rots away In the dampness of the ground But the blood-wood stands as solid as a stone It's the toughest silent sentry that the old-time farmer found To guard the boundary line he called his own [Verse three] The iron bar will crack On rock down in the hole A strain upon his back He drops the blood-wood pole And rams the gravel tight To fortify his soul He strained the wire tight To keep the cattle in From morning until night [Chorus] Oh, the cedar rots away In the dampness of the ground But the blood-wood stance is solid stone It's the toughest silent sentry that the old-time farmer found To guard the boundary line, he called his own. [Outro] The moss is creeping in. Across the silver wood. When rugged lines begin. For centuries, it stood. Out-living hands that built. Just like the farmer said it would. Defying time and tilt, Silent sentry standing tall. Lined around the boundary.
