| And I’m sorry if it hurts but my anger burns
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| A conservative curse covers the land
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| I’ll be a spanner in the works of your fucked up plans
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| Mr prime minister explain once again
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| Why our country is at war but we all feel ashamed
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| Tell me what you’d say to all the parents of the dead
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| Of the soldiers who have fallen or the civilians bathed in red
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| This ain’t a just war, it’s just war and business
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| The aggressive pursuit of financial interest
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| The sycophantic pandering to US foreign policy
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| Don’t confuse this issue with our economy
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| Call me unpatriotic if I get this off my chest
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| I’m as Australian as political protest
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| Agitators, immigrants, misfits and underdogs
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| And you know what? |
| That’s the Australia I’m proud of
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| Being wary is good…
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| Australians all let us recoil
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| For we have no idea
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| We go to war for wealth and oil
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| Our home is girt by fear
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| Our land abounds in growing rifts
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| Dividing rich and poor
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| In histories page this is the age
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| Of fair justice ignored
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| (yeah)
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| Now the rulers they measure the indifference
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| Can you live with this history blistering
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| Like Coober Pedy opal images
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| Social conditions, no one will openly visit
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| The atrocious revisions of our forefathers decision
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| That cast a shadow like a desert oak but through my periscope
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| I can see the descendants hoping for a better sentence yo
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| Listen close up to the hum of the land
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| Wheat belt sort of thirsty for some sustenance and
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| The indelible scars from years of pastoralists hands
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| I can’t understand the land marks of the man
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| Grandson and grandfather, a real rift between them
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| The generation gap is gradually receding
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| Leaving only but a trace of what wars where faced
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| And what thoughts where paced in courts and states
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| And what locked doors erase soft spots from lost wars
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| And faith is a word we don’t give enough weight
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| (these days) I’m on the train and I’m feeling kind of sad
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| (these days) I want the rain just to nourish up the land
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| (these days) I’m looking for a song to sing under my breath
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| 'cuase traditional colonial jigs they don’t represent me
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| Australians all let us recoil
|
| For we have no idea
|
| We go to war for wealth and oil
|
| Our home is girt by fear
|
| Our land abounds in growing rifts
|
| Dividing rich and poor
|
| In histories page this is the age
|
| Of fair justice ignored |