Peter Taylor master cattleman, his son John on his pony travelling Kicking up a dust storm on the plains they call their home With them rides young Morris Yungi, the second son of old Gilungi Just part of the family like his father was before And now young John Taylor holds the Answer, he's colour blind so it don't matter Treats each man just as he finds Him, the scales of age won't blind him Young John does school of the air And these bush kids they work in pairs So Morris's son, They call him Michael shares the books he reads and writes with They've grown up as thick as thieves So will things change when John leaves He's been taught to trust his mind so time'll find he won't And now young John Taylor holds the Answer, he's colour blind so it don't matter Treats each man just as he finds Him, the scales of age won't blind him And now Michael's land is young John's country It just crossed the paths of time and friendship It just takes time Now young John Taylor holds the Answer, he's colour blind so it don't matter Treats each man just as he finds Him, the scales of age won't blind him Young John Taylor holds the answer, He's colour blind so it don't matter Treats each man just as he finds Him, the scales of age won't blind him