I’ve left my little daughter
In a make shift crib down by the water
And her mother’s grave is not too far away
I made a cross from timber slates
That I broke from off the busted back
Of what was left of our old horse and dray.

The old gray horse with broken legs
And a bullet hole through It’s head
Is lying at the base of the basalt wall
And amid our gear all strewn around,
My son lies dead there on the ground
The only one who died in that tragic fall.

It was I who put the old horse down
While my wife sat there without a sound
She sat there with her head between her hands
I helped her get back on her feet
And we struggled down beside the creek
Where she lay beneath the shade, there in the sands.

She groaned and moaned in awful pain
And told me that she thought her brain
Was swelling like a damper in her head
So I nursed her there all through the night
And I lay by her and held her tight
But in the morning in my arms, she was dead.

So I dug a grave and laid her there
To keep the crows and dogs off her
Then I sat and nursed our little baby girl
Again the pain that I couldn’t hide
As I felt the bleeding deep inside
And I knew I hadn’t long left for this world.

I pray natives use that water hole,
Before my daughter’s dead and cold
For I can’t let our baby watch me die
The rifle’s here beside my son,
And now I do what must be done
Goodbye my little baby girl, goodbye...... The Anointed.