Wake Up Time!

When the shearing sheds are silent
and the stock camp’s 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 we’ve lost the drive and heart
we had to once more see us right.

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 the soaring crime and hopeless
hearts is no longer a surprise.

When the name of RM Williams is a
yuppie clothing brand,

Not a product of our heritage that
grew off the land.

—

When offering a handshake 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!”

~ Chris Long (Cairns)

Tags: ANZAC, Aussie, bush poetry, green agenda, heritage, orstraylian, outback, political correctness