| What should I do-oo-oo-o-oo-oo?
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| What should I do-oo-oo-ooo-oo?
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| Tension simmers from the white hot heat of the cold hard truth
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| That I never heard up in no classroom
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| Coming to understand, that I got blood on my hands
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| Cost of living in this sunburnt land
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| From the sands of the coast to the bush
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| We advanced as we came
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| And we pushed as they pulled so we took
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| And what we gave in exchange
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| Plague, disease and poison in the bottle
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| No question, blood stains the wattle
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| Was it like a game of hide and seek?
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| Stalking through the bush silently
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| Cos society told em to do it quietly
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| From the Apple Isle to the Myall Creek
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| Gun barrels rang out and put an end to what might’ve been
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| Genocide, lies, deceit, rape and massacre
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| Systematic assassination of character
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| Acts of depravity disguised as charity
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| All in the name of civilising humanity
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| Children snatched away from their families
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| Pain resonates leaving untold casualties
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| Protection boards and half castes
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| The truth is the flag ought fly at half mast
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| It’s a dark past buried in our own backyard
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| Still I can’t stand the thought that it’s all too hard
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| Or the heartless catch cry that «it's all in the past»
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| Yo that sounds like a coward’s remarks
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| This is happening right now, outback third world conditions
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| That never seem to make our televisions
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| Screens to congested with the rhetoric of politicians
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| Grandiose claims about Australian traditions
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| Enquiries and royal commissions
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| That are yet follow through to a conviction
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| Loyal subjects protected by the system
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| Too many dying in our prisons
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| Like a Palm Island man left lying on a cold cell floor
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| While the people looked for justice in a makeshift court
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| The response just stopped short of martial law
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| With the riot squad kicking down doors
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| I remember at fifteen, walking through The Block, feeling nervous
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| Cos my whole life I’d heard that it was risky
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| The racist in me, what a crock of shit
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| I stopped to think the opposite when the streets burned for T. J Hickey
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| Don’t ask why, what’s the use in that?
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| Cops roll past in red, white and blue of the Union Jack
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| Subtile oppression, bubbling menace
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| Maintain the presence, make the population feel threatened
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| Now fate beckons, hear the echoes
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| As the pain resonates devastation
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| Every January 26 I’m torn between wanting to celebrate
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| And hang my head in shame
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| There’s gotta be a better way, let me say
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| This mountain’s too high
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| And the levy’s about to break
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| Who will take this fight?
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| Who will take this blame?
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| We gotta justify this lie
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| Tell me what it takes
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| I said I’m sick of sitting here
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| I said I’m sick of sitting here waiting round for the change
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| Said we gotta get up
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| This is the story of a high plains drifter
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| Circle where they left us
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| On the front line of resistance
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| Assimilation imminent
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| Language lost
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| Now I’m talking mad primitive
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| English tah for the etikit
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| The alcohol give us smoke bruh
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| Two dollars for a bus fair
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| Citizenship now
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| And maybe I could vote and not be treated like a fucking joke
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| They want me to settle down
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| Cos the shit that I know
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| Could burn a hole in their program
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| About to explode
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| See the content in my dome
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| Is a war zone
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| The aftermath, guess what, it’s here
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| Our generation still appears to be stuck with fear
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| Cos you don’t wanna see the change
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| If you like how it is
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| And every day’s another day
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| When I see another kid
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| Growing up without nothing cos mum’s an alcoholic
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| And dad’s locked up
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| Brotherboy went and hung himself
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| Off a tree in the front yard
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| You wanna clean up your own backyard
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| Before you wanna try to save the world first
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| I done walked through the fire and then got burnt
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| Sympathy for a victim, we choose hate
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| I part ways with them dark days
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| Cuz you forget about our pain but
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| Who’s to blame cos
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| What they taught you in a classroom consumed you?
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| Well, here’s the truth
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| See they tried to wipe us off the face of the Earth dude
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| Do the math, need proof? |
| Look around you
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| This mountain’s too high
|
| And the levy’s about to break
|
| Who will take this fight?
|
| Who will take this blame?
|
| We gotta justify this lie
|
| Tell me what it takes
|
| I said I’m sick of sitting here
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| I said I’m sick of sitting here waiting round for the change
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| Said we gotta get up |