On the West Australian goldfields down Kalgoorlie streets are wide
I walked one night and felt as though the past was by my side
The city lights were fading and as I stood a while
A thousand candles seemed to shine across the golden mile
The clatter of a thousand tents before me on the field
Picks and shovels laid around that worked the golden yield
And figures passed before me in a moving shifting pile
Their faces turned towards me, ghost of the golden mile
And someone stood beside me and he watched them moving from
He said it's getting crowded here, I think I'll move along
His beard was grey and dusty, on his face was not a smile
Paddy Hannon was a quiet man, he opened the golden mile
And then I watched a camel team come swaying down the track
With precious loads of water cars strapped across their backs
The Afghan clad Mohammed told of new strikes all the while
His turban such a friendly sight along the golden mile
Oh I wish those men could see again these busy streets today
And hear the giant crushes as the mine works roar away
Kalgoorlie speaks of history and it keeps their memories alive
And they'll never be forgotten, ghost of the golden mile
Oh they'll never be forgotten, ghost of the golden mile