I Am Australian

I came from the Dreamtime, from the dusty red soil plains.
I am the ancient heart, the keeper of the flame.
I stood upon the rocky shore, I watched the tall ships come.
For forty thousand years I’d been the first Australian.

I came upon a prison ship bound down by iron chains.
I cleared the land, endured the lash and waited for the rains.
I’m a settler, I’m a farmer’s wife on a dry and barren run.
A convict then a free man, I became Australian.

I’m the daughter of a digger who sought the mother lode.
The girl became a woman on a long and dusty road.
I’m a child of the Depression – I saw the good times come.
I’m a bushy, I’m a battler, I am Australian.

We are one but we are many
And from all the lands on Earth we come.
We share a dream and sing with one voice
“I am, you are, we are Australian.”

I’m a teller of stories, I’m a singer of songs.
I am Albert Namatjira and I paint the ghostly gums.
I’m Clancy on his horse, I’m Ned Kelly on the run.
I’m the one who waltzed Matilda, I am Australian.

I’m the hot wind of the desert, I’m the black soil of the plains.
I’m the mountains and the valleys, I’m the droughts and flooding rains.
I am the Rock, I am the sky, the rivers when they run.
The spirit of this great land, I am Australian.

We are one, but we are many
And from all the lands on Earth we come.
We share a dream and sing with one voice
“I am, you are, we are Australian.
I am, you are, we are Australian.”

If anyone is interested, the chord progression is as follows – (// signifies a new line in the lyrics)

C / F C // Am / F G C // C / F G Am // C Dm / F G C //

Chorus follows as -

C / F C // Am G / C // C // F C // F G / Am G / F G C //

It tells the story of a digger landing at Gallipoli on 25th April, 1915, and then returning home to Australian via Sydney on the first ANZAC Day, 25th April,1916. The words written here are the ones I use and learned, not quite the same as those Eric Bogle sings on the clip to the side. I play it in C as it’s easy to finger pick for me, but again, I sometimes use a capo to get it to a better key for the kids. Here is the progression for those who are interested. The verse and chorus are the same for each of the five sections. It’s in 3/4 time.

C / F / C / Am / C / G / C G/G C /
C / F / C / Am / C / G / C G/G C /
G7/ G7 / F / C / G7/ G7/ F / C /
C / F / C / Am / C / G / C G/G C /Chorus
C / F / C / C / C / F / G7 / G7 /
F / F / C / Am / C / G / C G/G C /

And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

Now when I was a young man, I carried a pack
And I lived the free life of a rover.
From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback,
Well I waltzed my matilda all over.
Then in nineteen fifteen the country said ’son,
There’s no time for roving, there’s work to be done’.
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda as the ship pulled away from the quay.
And ‘midst all the cheers, the flag waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli.

How well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water.
And how in the Hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he’d primed himself well.
He rained us with bullets, he showered us with shell.
And in five minutes flat they’d blown us all to Hell.
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda as we stopped to bury the slain.
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs – and we started all over again.

And those who were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well I wished I were dead.
Never knew there were worse things than dying.

For I’ll got no more Waltzing Matilda all around the wide bush far and free.
For to hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs – no more Waltzing Matilda for me.

So they gathered the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane.
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as the ship pulled in to Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda as they filed us down the gangway.
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared, and they turned all their faces away.

So now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reliving old days and past glories.
But the old men march slowly, their bones stiff and sore.
Tired old heroes from a tired old war.
And the young people ask ‘what are they marching for?’
And I ask myself the same question.

But the band plays Waltzing Matilda and the old men still answer the call.
But year after year more old men disappear – one day no one will march there at all.

Technorati Tags: ANZAC Day, Eric Bogle, Waltzing Matilda, Gallipoli

Because the kids aren’t going to be here on Sunday (and, most importantly for us, neither are we teachers!), today, Friday, February 29th (and didn’t we talk about Leap Years a lot today!), was Clean Up Australia for Schools Day. Meaning… we dragged the kids around the school ground and the sports oval complex nearby with plastic bags and a shortage of plastic gloves. Yes, plastic is not really environment friendly, but neither’s leaving all that rubbish flitting around in the breeze either.

Lots of glass around, to be honest. The kids thought it was great to find an old VB bottle or two, but I did get a little sick of trying to pick up shattered glasses by the roadside, and I didn’t even bother when the kids found little tiny bits of glass scattered across the asphalt car parks.

The kids seemed to enjoy it, even if it did cut into their Free Time Friday afternoon, which most had to use finishing off their week’s work anyway. Maybe that was why they were happy to stay out there as long as possible…

I don’t think we’re technically allowed to call it ’scab duty’ any more… I think ‘emu parade’ is the more politically friendly and slightly amusing term for it now.

Shame. I always liked the term ’scab duty’.

* Not to do with this post, but if you missed today’s previous short post, read on again. Seems my other site is of Cultural Significance!