A Study In Bronze

I’ve unfurled the Southern Cross tonight and put it On the wall, and as I gazed the longest while.. I thought I heard the dingo’s call? It couldn’t be as all Round me were the sounds of London going down' Then I thought again of scenes that had Made my forehead frown, rows of blue Police ensued…’bout Sydneysiders Free We’re all of them of unworthy Ken? Real Dingoes one and all? Well so it seems Today; this way to be, yet Trawling deep, down way down; in my memory' I remember well the NSW country cops and City police on point duty, their white gloves And doves; amid Melbourne hub, bub and parks; the stately trees they were hard enough men Yet fairer; truer then' than this lot oh I’m in pain to see. Led by other dingoes on The prowl in a great country… where all Should ‘get a go’ I know. Every ‘Blue to Blind Freddie’ from Tassies spot up to Ayers Rock, Newcastle to Albany. They’re a devious lot, this closet mob Behind a screen of decency, they point Out ‘unclean people’ and just who Will own to dirt? Not them for some They’ll just ‘give it the gun’ so more statistics It’s bound to be ‘as on the margins of truth they flirt’ we can see that no Doubt’ they’ve come up from Monash halls or Adelaide uni And yet; they’re overawed I see' they’ve just at Europe’s beck And call, mouthing I once met a Sorbonner; mumbling Shakespeare In their sleep. They're following a mantra maybe; to prove their quality? Thinking, now watch the Aussies lock it down, I reckon they’ll have Locked the lot, each gate, each cupboard door maybe even Padlocking the locks? (Bless their cotton socks) oh they’ll not be Seen as larrakins or the world might look at them poor…! Patterson of the banjo fame, has no part of their desire, they’ve never rode The paddock long or fed an outback fire. Value Henry Lawson? You’ll find there no incent' they couldn’t stack A wall of mallee roots, these gutless bloody wonders, so Give them all the heavy boot; from Cairns right down. To Melbourne Town. Awake and face the truth, you’ve got the Will, you’ve got the groove from lawyers To publicans, so get behind your truckies That kept you on the move; in the spirit of Green dog Stevens. I hear he’s now back in the news' he made the Stand at Razorback He was a sharp one too, the country’s not colonial now it’s full of seasoned crews who Can organize with drive; run commerce reason and thrive; the Stockade is in the past, so now stand fast! Don’t subordinate your days, it’s up to you See it though and make it stay that way. Sing out to all your Cobbers, pilots, judges, cockys and police, WHO will have their (orders coming in) but are they true? If they are; then they’ll come good; and through. Close ranks round the big brown land Shut the courts, all sea and airports to Take the country in hand; remember Your roots recall your truth’s and turn off the media stew; there is Better sense listening to.. Crow on a barbed wire fence. And of those who took the jab as told? What Of those trusting ones? Don’t exclude them In any way – They’re Australia’s Daughters and Sons! ©Joe Maverick 19-9-2021