Brisbane Blacks

Mop & the Dropouts
Language: English

On TV I saw a story, of the Brisbane Blacks
A story that is touching, a story that is right
In the story, a group of people sitting in a park
Drinking in harmony, drinking until dark

You wonder why they’re like that
Those so-called “drunken blacks”
They know that they’ve done no wrong
But the pressure from society is strong

Every day, each passing day, our culture slowly dies
Like a piece of paper thrown onto a fire
Now all we’ve got is ancient weapons, now is our only trade [?]
Compared to all the immigrants, look how much we’ve made

You look down through your noses to see
The Black-man problems down at your feet
With weary eyes looking up at you
Waiting for the message to get through

Now it’s time for them to sleep, and it’s not in a bed
But in some warm surroundings, in a park or in a shed
Warmed only by the grog that’s been drunk through the day
Warmed only by the grog, the killer of his mates

The very first Australians around
The very first people to be down
And why we fight, is to be recognised
Only to be felt by your blind eyes
Yes, only to be felt by your blind eyes

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