Trapped by tides
Led by liars
Specks of light
clinging to telephone wires
Surrounded by desert pyres
about as foreign to me as my distant sires
Europe and the Americans
send their artists down here to vent
I’m afraid to sing in my own accent
culture cringing like an adolescent
Here upon this artless wedge
We struggle not to fall off the edge of the world
Caroline Springs
and she floods the fields
Cities bitch
high up on four wheels
I know they just want what’s best for their families
but I want to live in a community
where there’s no need to pray that it’s them and not me
and I’m allowed to be what I’m meant to be
Here upon this artifice
the Australian Dream falls off the edge of the world
The oldest people
the oldest wisdom
beyond the grasp of an infant kingdom
We come from people who risked it all
We come from people that broke the law
Now I need a stamped piece of paper to take a piss
like we’re still a gaol for the English
Two centuries on an ancient land
pretending that we understand the world

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