HAPPY VALLEY

~ 1 ~

Among the sand dunes of the shore,
Where the surf bites at the beach,
There are the shanties where no more,
The old cultures never reach.
'Tis "Happy Valley" by white men called,
Where left over natives live,
Who soon enough will be installed,
In the homes the Government give,
To people who are in their way,
Who litter the public scene,
But who want among the dunes to stay,
Where they have always been.
But money will win the Government's day
And no native will be seen.

~ 2 ~

There are no shanties on the shore,
Where the black folk used to be,
But commissioned homes are more and more,
Developing you see.
They go to school, the native youth,
To learn the white man's ways,
But they survive as living proof,
Of those lost tribal days
Their teachers are not of their race,
To understand their thoughts,
And often they are out of place,
And often out of sorts.
This is tomorrow's jobless face,
That white culture still ignores.

~ 3 ~

Beneath the law forbidding truth,
That racist views exist,
The festering sore offers proof,
That the white folk still resist.
Better are tomorrow's youth,
At merging black with white,
But still the races are aloof,
The streets not a pleasant sight.
The hand outs do not offer pride,
Nor nurture cultural gain,
Along the footpaths in the street,
Black children live in shame.
Drinking grog; their foul retreat,
And glue fumes bring them pain.

~ 4 ~

Young folk have nothing else to do,
The Dole office pays them well,
And white lads also it is true,
Have their own sad tales to tell.
Some work for less than what is paid,
To them by the office for free,
But others will not lift a spade,
When they need not plant a tree.
The incentive for them to toil and work,
Is simply never there,
So 'tis all the go to sniff and shirk,
On the handouts from welfare
And some enjoy it as a lurk,
For it's offered everywhere.

~ 5 ~

In Sydney's inner Suburb streets,
'Tis in Redfern where they reside,
A ghetto where dead culture meets,
With the loss of noble pride,
There is no dignity in those boys,
Just hostile stares and hate,
Where Government policy destroys,
What it seeks to achieve too late.
'Tis time that in the end will win,
As time will always do,
And he who does not lose his sin,
Will never make it through.
And the welfare state in time will fail,
And that for sure is true.

~ 6 ~

Black deaths inside our prison cells,
Fake suicides revealed,
By bolder types of Abo folk,
Who knew bashings were concealed,
Were finally brought to a press,
Who could not ignore the shame,
And who of course like to impress,
To further their own gain.
Stupid mindless vain police,
Who despised all people black,
Their violent ways were forced to cease,
Because they faced the sack.
But laws do not increase, in fools,
The compassion that they lack.

~ 7 ~

Now seriously overprotected,
And deprived of equal claim,
The policies elected,
Invite white folk to complain.
'Tis now the black folk who are racist,
They can criticize the white,
Without fear of their reprisal,
Which is not very right.
So instead of drawing closer,
The gap widens as before,
That both sides are the losers,
In this complicated war.
And the Government refuses,
Saying they can't do any more.

~ 8 ~

But where the real Aborigine is living,
In the back-blocks of our land,
Is where the real suffering,
Has gotten out of hand.
They don't care for dole and treasures,
'Tis for their children that they cry,
Who are content with simple pleasures,
But are asking why they die.
What has happened to their families,
All their babies sniffing glue,
Petrol running from their nostrils,
While their skin is turning blue.
And our God is doing nothing,
Nor are Christians just like you.

~ 9 ~

What then, what are we doing,
What are the answers to this shame,
What can we do to change it,
We are not helpless and not lame.
And we are all so righteous,
In our societies built on blood,
Who seem to think that killing,
Is condoned by God as good.
Yet we really praise the dollar,
Blame our Governments for our ills,
Expect compensation for our folly,
And glorify the one who kills,
But seldom do we offer,
Active compassion that fulfils.

~ 10 ~

Brothers, are we not brothers,
Is the black man flesh and bone,
Is he not a lot like others,
Who need love and need a home?
Do you think that you are better,
In your fancy dinner suit,
In your shiny shoes and baseball cap,
And the handouts you dispute?
Does it give you satisfaction,
To mimic and complain,
That the Abo isn't worthy,
Of good things just the same;
That will turn him into something,
That is not pissed down the drain.

~ 11 ~

The past has gone and present,
Never will remain,
It is tomorrow we must nurture,
It is tomorrow we must claim.
We must go out there among them,
And laugh and joke and sing,
Share their ways and longings,
Share their everything.
If we want to be a nation,
With a future truly free,
We must join them in creation,
That all the world can see,
That Australians stand together,
In peace and loyalty.

~ 12 ~

Oh Priest what is your function,
Why do you wear the holy cloth?
Is it so you can share your luncheon,
With butterfly and moth?
Or is it still your purpose,
Your duty and your will,
To lead Gods people forward,
And conquer the fiery hill?
When last did you go public,
To do the work of God,
And plough the Devil's nettles,
Into the earthen sod?
Or yet are you defeated,
By your own path that you plod?

~ 13 ~

Rise up you tyrant ravers,
Leave your pulpits and go out,
Look at the world around you,
And with anger loudly shout!
Forget your gathered riches,
Your vanity and your pride,
Your fear to speak as Jesus did,
Who for all his children died.
Rouse up the Catholic ranters,
And fat bellied reverends too,
Go out where you are most wanted,
Where none are in the queue.
Lest you be hypocrites and morons,
And lazy bastards too.

~ 14 ~

Stand up and be counted,
You lazy two faced Priests,
Who soil the holy water,
From which your pockets feast.
Stand up you righteous liars,
And challenge what you know,
Is decaying in foul fires,
Of man's worst and deadly foe.
Stand up! Stand up, I tell you!!
And go where you must go,
To be where you should be teaching,
Where folk cry for hope in woe.
Stand up!! Stand up false Christians!!
Go where God would have you go.

~ 15 ~

If Jesus came back here to Earth,
A Christian he would not be,
And all you priests of little worth,
Would from your Churches flee.
Would he not challenge the Government,
The Bishops and the Popes,
The leaders of a society ,
Who feed the world false hopes?
Indeed he would not leave them,
Untutored and forlorn,
Like the pathetic Aboriginal people,
In the white man's foot a thorn.
No he'd never be a Christian,
For all they do is harm.

~ 16 ~

Do we look beyond the landscapes,
Within our city walls,
Out to where our rivers flow,
That form our pleasant water falls.
Do we know that folk are dying,
In the streets every night,
And millions more are crying,
In desperate famished plight?
Do we care here in our affluence,
If the poor and mild and meek,
Lose all their sense of humanity,
That we do not have to seek?
And if we cared what could we do...
Except to our leaders speak.

Governments are elected,
by the people of the land,
By the people who've neglected,
To take an active stand.
Everything they fail to do,
They blame the Government for,
For they should say "I'm here for you",
To those who live next door.
If each man helped his neighbour,
And each neighbour helped each man
We would all delight our saviour,
And all poverty we would ban.
But greed and selfish pleasure,
Is for them a better plan.

~ 18 ~

So what of the Media Moguls,
Who look the other way,
The fat-bellied lazy journalist,
Who has a lot to say,
But only if it's something,
That he can cause to flame,
Into a ranging fire,
For he has not any shame.
He will aide the Hostage taker,
The terrorist and the foe,
Helping them to spread their word,
That all the world do know.
But what do they do for the children,
That concern for them might grow.

~ 19 ~

Where are those who claim to love them,
In this system that promotes welfare,
That takes Mothers from there homes,
For they simply do not care,
So long as Mum has sex on Wednesday,
And Dad gets drunk on Saturday night,
That every other day except payday,
They call each other names and fight.
How can we change this society,
Of drunken dads and Priests,
Who molest the young for variety,
While the divorce rates still increase.
Perhaps the murdered babes; the unborn,
Do the horror of it all decrease.

~ 20 ~

More babies are born to poor folk,
People who struggle to survive,
It is nature's way to stoke the fire,
To keep the human flame alive.
But the affluent who pursue,
Their personal joyous lives,
Desire never to accrue,
Responsibility for a babies cries.
The Christian ethic distorts somewhat,
As morals are made to fit,
Like bullet holes when men are shot,
Are covered in grime and shit.
And none of them do a lot,
Lest it be, turn away and quit.

~ 21 ~

The corporate powers that rule the world,
Will never really care,
And even the individual person now,
Will do nothing without a share.
The board directors and committee men,
Fight only with themselves,
Jealous of each others role,
The pit deep where each one delves.
'Tis all for money fame and self,
Few reach beyond their greed,
For all they do is gather wealth,
And make the flesh of others bleed.
So we take the easy road and wait for God,
Though we have more than we need.

~ 22 ~

Still we think despite our sin,
That we are the ones God loves,
That no matter what we do to win,
Our hands are in his white gloves.
It matters not that we worship war,
That we kill and maim and rape,
Though that which most folk never saw,
From God's eye will not escape.
And it matters not why babies die,
In a free nation's littered streets,
Though there's not one single reason why,
'Tis in our hearts where the guilt-pulse beats ...
For it is there we harbour this grand lie,
From where the truth retreats.