When the shearing sheds are silent and the stock camps fallen quiet,
When the gidgee coals no longer glow across the outback night.
And the bush is forced to hang a sign, 'gone broke and won't be back'. And spirits fear to find a way beyond the beaten track.
When harvesters stand derelict upon the wind swept plains.
And brave hearts pin their hopes no more on chance of loving rains.
When a hundred outback settlements are ghost towns overnight.
When 'Pioneer' means a stereo and 'Digger' some backhoe.
And the 'Outback' is behind the house, there's nowhere else to go.
And 'Anzac' is a biscuit brand and probably foreign owned.
And education really means brainwashed and neatly cloned.
When you have to bake a loaf of bread to make a decent crust.
And our heritage once enshrined in gold is crumbling to dust.
And old folk pay their camping fees on land for which they fought.
And fishing is a great escape; this is until you're caught.
When you see our kids with yankee caps and resentment in their eyes.
And soaring crime and hopeless hearts are no longer a surprise.
When the name of RM Williams is a yuppie clothing brand.
Not a product of our heritage that grew from off the land.
When offering a hand makes people think you'll amputate.
And two dogs meeting in the street is what you call a 'Mate'.
When 'Political Correctness' has replaced all common sense.
When you're forced to see it their way, there's no sitting on the fence.
Yes one day you might find yourself an outcast in this land.
Perhaps your heart will tell you then, I should have made a stand'
Just go and ask the farmers that should remove all doubt.
Then join the swelling ranks who say, 'Don't sell Australia out'.
This poem was written by Chris Long from Edmonton, Queensland.
When the gidgee coals no longer glow across the outback night.
And the bush is forced to hang a sign, 'gone broke and won't be back'. And spirits fear to find a way beyond the beaten track.
When harvesters stand derelict upon the wind swept plains.
And brave hearts pin their hopes no more on chance of loving rains.
When a hundred outback settlements are ghost towns overnight.
When 'Pioneer' means a stereo and 'Digger' some backhoe. And the 'Outback' is behind the house, there's nowhere else to go.
And 'Anzac' is a biscuit brand and probably foreign owned.
And education really means brainwashed and neatly cloned.
When you have to bake a loaf of bread to make a decent crust.
And our heritage once enshrined in gold is crumbling to dust.
And old folk pay their camping fees on land for which they fought.
And fishing is a great escape; this is until you're caught.
When you see our kids with yankee caps and resentment in their eyes. And soaring crime and hopeless hearts are no longer a surprise.
When the name of RM Williams is a yuppie clothing brand.
Not a product of our heritage that grew from off the land.
When offering a hand makes people think you'll amputate.
And two dogs meeting in the street is what you call a 'Mate'.
When 'Political Correctness' has replaced all common sense.
When you're forced to see it their way, there's no sitting on the fence. Yes one day you might find yourself an outcast in this land.
Perhaps your heart will tell you then, I should have made a stand'
Just go and ask the farmers that should remove all doubt.
Then join the swelling ranks who say, 'Don't sell Australia out'.
This poem was written by Chris Long from Edmonton, Queensland.
Hi, thought you might like to know that this poem was written by my brother Chris Long from Edmonton in Far North Queensland. He is well known in North Queensland as a talented Australian poet but finding out that his poem went viral on the internet has been a new experience. He has a book of self written poetry entitled "Top Rail Politicians"
ReplyDeleteThank you for this. I will see if I can edit the post and give the guy his die credit, maybe we'll find even more stuff written by him in the future.
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