em = By Lachlan Irvine
This white feller, he's pretty smart.
Got all the education, all the money;
But what he does with it sometimes
To me it can seem pretty funny.
Give our young boys grog, then lock 'em away,
Make 'em feel anger, pain and fear;
Caged up in a land where their ancestors lived
In freedom many a thousand year.
No tribal life, no walkabout,
No sky of everlasting stars;
Just four grey walls, a concrete floor,
And on the window, iron bars.
But this white feller, he's pretty smart
Millions of dollars he's goin' to pay
For a Royal Commission to work out why
We'd rather die than live that way.