‘You don’t take that land,’ they cried, they yelled, they wailed
at the men in the military suits and feathered hats.
‘Go away and get off my land, get off my land, my land.’
But they didn’t listen,
listen to the laws of this land,
didn’t listen to the rock-carved declarations of sovereignty,
didn’t listen to the dreaming
and they didn’t go away
and they took the land, took the land, took the dreaming away.
Bastards.
‘You don’t take that woman,’ he cried, he yelled, he wailed
at the men in the moleskin pants and cork-rimmed hats.
‘Is not right marriage, is wrong skin, is not your woman.’
But they didn’t listen,
listen to the laws of this land,
didn’t listen to aching hearts of warriors who knew and lived the ancient law,
didn’t listen to the screaming
and they beat her
and they took her, they raped her, took the woman away.
Bastards.
‘You don’t take my people,’ they cried, they yelled, they wailed
at the men in the redcoats and braided caps.
‘Is not our law, our law says must not kill, is not OUR LAW.’
But they didn’t listen, listen to the laws of this land,
didn’t listen to the terror or the ache or the agony that wrenched every face,
didn’t listen to the screaming
and they took them, they put them in chains, they butchered, took the people away.
Bastards.
‘You don’t take that kid,’ she cried, she yelled, she wailed
at the men in the pinstripe suits and fedora hats.
‘Come back here with my babies, don’t take my babies, my babies, my babies.
But they didn’t listen,
listen to the heartache
didn’t listen as she ran, arms stretched out in longing, embracing nothing,
didn’t listen to the moaning,
and they gloated
and they took them, put them in homes, took the babies away.
Bastards.
‘You don’t take them boys,’ they cried, they yelled, they wailed
at the men in blue with the chequerband caps.
‘They’ve done nothin’, leave them alone, done nothin’ we say. Leave them alone.’
But they didn’t listen,
listen to the injustice,
didn’t listen to truth, six young lads doing nothing, just going home,
didn’t listen to the moaning,
and they beat them, and they locked them away, and they killed them.
Bastards.
‘You don’t take that land,’ we say, we yell, we holler
at the men in black flowing robes and curly white wigs.
‘It’s our land, always was, always will be. It’s our land.’
But they don’t listen,
listen to equality,
don’t listen to truth, to human rights, to land rights,
don’t listen to our law,
and they take our land, and they graze it and mine it and fuck it up forever.
Bastards.
From Urban Songlines