They came in to the little town
A semi-naked band subdued and silent
All that remained of their tribe.
Stalking the corridors of life,
Black, frustrated minds
Scream for release
My son, your troubled eyes search mine,
Puzzled and hurt by colour line.
Your black skin as soft as velvet shine;
What can I tell you, son of mine?
What if you came back now
To our new world, the city roaring
There on the old peaceful camping place
Gumtree in the city street,
Hard bitumen around your feet,
Rather you should be
Aboriginal man, you walked with pride,
And painted with joy the countryside.
Original man, your fame grew fast,
Men pointed you out as you went past.
Here, at the invaders talk-talk place,
We, who are the strangers now,
Come with sorrow in our hearts.
The Bora Ring, the Corroborees,