Get all 11 Penelope Swales releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Captains of Industry, Legacy: Two Decades of Topical Writing, Skin: Deep, Archive Vol. 2: Songs from the Borderline 1989-1992, Monkey Comfort, 'Archive': Demos, Out-takes and One-offs 1995-2000, Justifying your Longings to the Doctor, Homemade Wine, and 3 more.
1. |
Legacy 2010
03:45
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Legacy (2010 version)
© Penelope Swales 2010
I wake into the morning,
I find no joy in waking
Coz with waking comes remembrance
With remembrance, recognition
Recognition, comprehension
Comprehension, obligation
In the frailness of the morning
To find the strength to shift a nation, Ohh
And what will be my legacy?
One of the luckiest people in the world
Young and free, young and healthy,
Young and wealthy, young and white
Our poorest are still among the affluent
Running water, food and shelter
Can be yours without a fight
Living in the Lucky Country
By some strange twist of fate
The suffering of millions
Is too big to get a grip on
If defies all explanation
It’s beyond our comprehension
But I reflect on my mortality
Reflect on its finality
I have it on authority
That my own death is a certainty, And
What will have been my legacy?
One of the few with the time to change the world
Young and free, young and healthy,
Young and wealthy, young and white
Our poorest are still among the affluent
While our brothers and our sisters shiver huddled in their tents
Drinking water tainted with their excrement
So I went into the street
Yes we were voting with our feet
Surprised to see how quickly
It cost us all our respectability
Being rough-housed by policemen
Give you some indication
Just a little comprehension
Of life beneath oppression, and
People on their lunchbreak say
“What those wierdos bitching ‘bout today?”
And the ask me “Just what do you think you’re doing with your life?
You should straighten up and realise your potential
Young and free, young and healthy,
Young and wealthy, young and white
You should be thinking of your future, my girl!”
(somewhere someone else has to have less)
The machinery of nations
Offers up no explanations
About why globalisation
Must be oiled with exploitation
The Doha Round’s embarrassment
The failure of development
The continued blind aggrandisement
Of a wealth based on embezzlement, and
What will have been our legacy?
Riding bloated on the back of the pacific giant’s gluttony
While Nigerians, Kiribatians, Bangladeshis, Tuvaluvans
Watch their farmland sink beneath the rising oceans
Lose their country, lose their courage
Richer states deaf to their pleas
Don’t wanna hear about no climate refugees
Young and healthy, young and wealthy,
Young and free and young and white
Our poorest are still among the affluent
While interventions, mixed intention
The colonial reinvention
Takes on unexpected, yes and frightening dimension
While Palestinians Arab civilians
Tibetans, Uighers, Sudanese
Caught in the crossfire of competing ideologies
And greater numbers every year my friend
Lie huddled in their tents
Drinking water tainted with our excrement
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2. |
Black Carrie
07:41
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Black Carrie
© Penelope Swales 1993
When I first met Black Carrie
I met her in passing, here and there
And one day she turned and spoke to me
With words that cut the air
Her clothing was silk and purple
And bought at a market stall
And she sparkled at me darkly
Small and ample
Her eyes were black and bright
Like a swallow
Ohh…
She said to me “I mourn every day
Everywhere I go, in every way
Everything I see speaks to me
Of struggling and dying, silently
And I mourn for the trees and for the sky
I mourn for remnant grasslands and oceans wide
I mourn because I fear I won’t survive
And I mourn because I love my life
I go along to these demonstrations
Where the issue is frustrated and is lost
By revolution-heads with chips on their shoulders
And media vultures
Too busy counting confrontation to count the cost
And I mourn for the potential of the cause
To reunite us and set us back on course
I mourn for all of those who might have joined us
If only they hadn’t thought
That protesting was violent
When I’m alone I hear the earth crying
I hear it in my belly, deep and sore
And that’s why I’ll avoid going up country sometimes
Coz every time I go I hear it more
And the cacophony of buses and of streets
Deafens my ears to the keening and the pleas
My senses are dulled by subtle poisons,
In the subway, I’m not aware that I’m underground
Coz there is no ground to see
And every weed speaks out its life to me
Every seagull’s sacred and profane
Each Styrofoam container a blasphemy
And sparrows, although feral, remind me
That sparrows are
And sparrows are not to blame for what they are
And we’re like sparrows
But sparrows are not to blame for what we are
And I know that hope is crucial
But hope sometimes deals me a strange hand
So I must find this first rally in myself
Make this first most fundamental stand
So I smile for the springtime and the light
Smile for the sunshine stirring life
I try not to think too closely of the strife that’s pending
And I smile because I love my life
Mourn for the trees mourn for the sky
I mourn before the onslaught of poisonous sunlight
I mourn because this is the springtime of my life
And coz so much has already died
And I mourn because I love my life”
Black Carrie
Black Carrie loves her life
And I love Black Carrie
Oh, coz Black Carrie loves her life
Fight for the trees, fight for the sky
Fight for remnant grasslands and oceans wide
Fight coz if you don’t, we won’t survive
Fight, fight if you love
Your life, fight if you love
Your life.
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3. |
Mother Song
03:44
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Mother Song
© Penelope Swales 1991
Come now, let us not be starry-eyed!
If we look around us, we cannot pretend
That mankind has never set its foot here
But still – it is so beautiful
There is peace and tranquility here
Even with the ravages that we have made
In this state forest, in this urban park,
On this wind-swept beach, in this inner-city backyard
Look how tolerant your mother is
Look how far she can be pushed and yet provide
See how well she covers her scars
See how she hides her cancers and ulcers
Look Child! Look and understand
Because on her we all depend for our survival.
I look at her back and her side as she bends
I look at her and I cannot pretend
That her man has never set his foot here
But still, she is so beautiful
There is love and acceptance here
Even with the ravages that he has made
In the doctor’s waiting room , in the supermarket shelves
In the principal’s office, in her secret self
Look how tolerant your mother is
Look how far she can be pushed and yet provide
See how well she covers her scars
See how she hides her cancers and ulcers
Look Child! Look and understand
Because on her you will depend for your survival.
For 10 years, the warning has been imminent
The roof is dissolving over our heads
It’s all been affected, it’s all going wrong
And it will affect you before too much longer
There’s nowhere to go there nowhere you can hide
From the depths of the ocean to the deep blue sky
It’s more than just poison, it’s more than just heat
The ground is strangling under our feet
But there’s still time to make ends meet
Even with the ravages that we have made
In this eroded pasture, in this urban sprawl
In this beach-front sewer, in this inner-city backyard
In this logged-out forest, in this choked city air
In this sterile carpark, in your TV chair
I beg of you
Look how tolerant your mother is
But how much further can we push and yet survive?
See how well she covers her scars
But we’re the ones, we’re the cancers, the ulcers
Look Child! Look and understand
Because on her we all depend for our survival.
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4. |
Lionhearts
03:46
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Lionhearts
© Dale Jones
Though these days
One power reigns
There’s you who will find
What the truth is
To you so brave
We give you the name
Lionhearts
They’re heavy days, these
Without the chance
To find out what is real
And these illusions
Appear before us
Being all we see
There’s voices in the distance
But it’s getting
Hard to hear them
Through the smokescreens
The sounds are the pleading
Of those with lives in bondage
Wrongly suffering
Though these days
One power reigns
There’s you who will find
What the truth is
To you so brave
We give you the name
Lionhearts
A noble cause
Yes, defenders of a system
True and just
To keep the white world rich
The third world’s fight
For freedom
Must be crushed
Now if the tales were told
What secrets would unfold
No-one can know
No-one but those
Who live for knowing,
Knowing
Chorus
What finer way
Than TV screens
Foe keeping people
Deaf and blind
A shadow world
Lies behind the trivia
The news headlines
Now if the tales were told
What secrets would unfold
No-one can know
No-one but those
Who live for knowing,
Knowing
Chorus
To you so brave
We give you the name
Lionhearts
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5. |
Our Apartheid
04:17
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Our Apartheid
© Penelope Swales 1995
Oh-wey-oh Stephen Biko,
Oh-wey-oh Mandela.
Oh-wey-oh children of Soweto,
Oh-wey-oh Sharpeville Massacre.
Oh-wey-oh death in Johannesburg
Corruption
in Pretoria
Oh-wey-oh, Inkatha-Zulu, ANC
Oh-wey-oh Africa.
When you were sitting in your prison cell,
For twenty-seven years,
Did you
risk your sanity by dreaming of this day?
Breaking rocks on Robben Island, I
tell you,
We never thought we'd see the day
When a black man would rule
South Africa,
Where black dreams have shaped the world
A long and bloody
fight and so many have died
To bring about such a relatively peaceful
revolution
When Daniel Yock was sitting in his prison cell,
Your victory
was already guaranteed
We who have sat here, next-door in the Southern
hemisphere
Some of us signed petitions hoping you'd be freed
We have
thought about ourselves as so egalitarian
So superior to whites in your
country
And yet there's so much that bears comparison
But in your land
Aparthied's over and in my land it's still here
Well I never said it was
official government policy
And Mabo rolled hope and despair into one
Lip
service ifs effective and it's free
And the mining machinery rolls on
One
obvious difference is in your country
Black people have always outnumbered
whites
Yet here the white race worked so much more efficiently
And many
people live and die never even having met a Koori
Over there in your
country how do your people feel tonight?
Dancing in the streets, exuberance,
"At last we have our rights!"
Over there in your country how do white people
feel tonight?
It's fun to speculate on the trembling of the fascist
two-percenting right
Over here in this country how do white people feel
tonight?
Oblivious or nodding their approval
Rolling over and turning out the
light.
Here in this country how do black people feel tonight?
Daniel's
relatives could be excused for having their fists and their lips clenched
tight
Aiee, Maralinga. Kurnai, Wurundjeri, Daniel Yock
Truganini,
Namatjera
So many thousands nameless lost
You still have so far to go in
your country
And we yet further here in ours
Take care old man, don't
dance to late
We all know you're more ill than you make out
But they need
you and we need you
And we all know that you're tired,
But we want you to be
the hero,
We want you to make it right
‘Coz we don't make it right
Not
here in our lives, not here in this land,
Not here in our Aparthied.
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6. |
Black Snake Range
05:23
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Black Snake Range
© Penelope Swales 2005
When I’m tight in my heart, and low in my mind
I go out wanderin’ in the Black Snake
I leave my petty dramas and my cares behind
They can’t follow through the twisted tracks of Black Snake
On windy point, the trees say “Shhhh…”
Your troubles are nothing next to ours
At Four Brothers Rocks the stones shrug and say “Patience!”
They’re marking time between glaciers while I fret through my hours
Their eroded surrounds, once a sacred site
Now a place where the white boys unload their trail-bikes
But there’s no two-stroke blaring on a Wednesday night
Up on the ridge in the Black Snake
In the evening dusk in the innocent dawn.
Through the cyclical bushfires ignited by the dry summer storms
Through weekend invasions and Easter incursions
And summer plunderers and occasional pilgrims
Something still feels good and it still feels strong
On the Black Snake Range.
It’s just scruffy state forest that’s seen it all before
Massive stumps, rotten logs on the forest floor.
But away from the weeds on the roadside
A stubborn and muscular peace abides
There are grass-trees, and rare orchids if you know where to look
Balancing boulders, a river that flows right out of a rock
Through Easter invasions and weekend incursions
And summer plunderers and occasional pilgrims
Something still feels good and it still feels strong
On the Black Snake Range.
And suddenly, serenity is shattered by bikes and trucks and grader blades
By weekend warriors out proving their manhood on the tricky tracks of the Black Snake Range
Ah, proving it to who, the bush doesn’t care
And they never see the way that silence rolls in in their wake
Erasing their passing like the rain erases tyre tracks
In the endless amnesia of the Black Snake
In the sinister dusk, in the innocent dawn
Through the cyclical bushfires ignited by the dry summer storms
Through weekend invasions and Easter incursions
And summer plunderers and occasional pilgrims
Something still feels good and it still feels strong
On the Black Snake Range.
Black Snake Range
Ah, look out in the Black Snake
You don’t wanna step on a Black Snake
You’ll know who’s boss if you step on a Black Snake
You’ll know nature doesn’t give a toss if you step on a Black Snake.
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7. |
Car
05:41
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Car
© Penelope Swales 1995
Down the freeway,
See the glow light up the night
And weaving through the
foothills,
Glimpses of this city's lights
It's a city of demons for me
Lurking in the fold of the hills,
Its hiding, keeping its advantage
Down the tollway,
Further into the heart of the spreading monster
Twisting, turning, dipping,
weaving
All the other drivers speeding
The hand of apprehension clutches
my throat
Claws at my coping mind
Deprives me of my voice
Glancing off
the centre,
Streets I recognise
Here's where I took that "e" that went so
bad
Never do that again
That's the Cross down there
Where playing
"Knocking on Heaven's Door" to drunkards
Was my only grip on life
But not
tonight
The roads here shift and change
As if the city was made of sand
Before you know it, you've taken a wrong turn
But don't fight it,
Just
drift into an eddy where you can
Scratch your head about where you went
wrong
There's no margin for error in the stream
Out Old South Head Road now to Bondi,
There the "forest bods" are waiting.
They've worked hard
For
the attention of this city, yeah
Driven by the urgency
Of their
acknowledged responsibility
Out of their sweet, complacent havens in the
North
And down into the heart of the monster
To spread the word, to raise a
quid,
And struggle against the woodchip machine for another year
Another
year....
Another year
I was here,
But I was different then
My mind now is
superimposed on my mind then,
Everything I see is met with two sets of
reactions
Almost as if
The me I might have been has been waiting for me
here,
Lurking in damp, piss-reeking alleyways,
Hiding behind skips and wheely-bins
I turn my head, is that my face?
Yellow webbing satchel and
busted guitar case,
But it's someone's else's black leather shoulders
Shrugging in the cold
And I know I'm rolling, rolling - ah,
Speeding,
speeding - ah,
Freewheeling - ah!
Rolling, rolling - ah,
Speeding, speeding
- ah,
Freewheeling, - ah!
And so are the wheels of this world, embodied in
this city,
So are the wheels of this world embedded in this city
So are the
gears of this world crashing in this city,
The gnashing fears of this world
clashing in this city
My mind now is superimposed on my mind then,
Down
into the heart of the monster we go,
To spread the message everyone already
knows
And I know that
My car runs as blood in the veins of the monster,
My
car runs as blood in the veins of the monster,
My blood runs in my veins in
my car
My car runs as blood in the veins of the monster,
My car HIV, Hep C
in the veins of the world,
My blood runs in my veins in my car
The monster
is powered by me and myriads like me,
The monster's powered by me and
myriads like me,
My blood runs in my veins in my car
The monster is powered
by me and myriads like me,
The monster's powered by me and myriads like me
Even as we scream - STOP!
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8. |
No Way In, No Way Out
06:26
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No Way In, No Way Out
© Penelope Swales 1989
Ah—la-da da etc..
Waltz with me dance with me, walk with me
Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me, talk to me
Waltz with me dance with me, walk with me
Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me, talk to me
Take me in off the street
A stranger that I chanced to meet
Saw my face and said
Hey, you were in the band!
Take me to the heater’s glow
The student house, they come and go
And I was watchin’
Listenin’ to their talk
And gauging my reaction
Partial irritation, partial attraction
Sort of refreshing, but carrying no satisfaction
Oh..I am what I’ve always been now
I am the stranger now
There’s no way on and no way out
but when I tried to tell her that, she said
“You don’t understand!
You don’t understand my cares
What colourshall I dye my hair
And oh, my birthday’s not the same as
Jim Morrison’s”
Ohh –wey-oh
Do you think he’d like to hear you say so?
No you’re right, I shouldn’t criticise
I’m sorry that I spoke
Plain to see now
Revivial’s in full swing
You can tell byt the songs that cover bands sing
And young people saying
“Things aren’t as exciting
As they were way back when”
Now, mother, tell me is it true?
Was it all just paisley, mini-skirts and pointy shoes or
Was there more than that
wasn’ there something more than that
Oh, makes me think of what I’ve heard
Of students with the courage to try and change the world
Students that make this bunch, yeah,
Look a little bit absurd
Still gong on today, now
no longer a western phenomenon
Marching on the people’s town
Guns and tanks have mowed them down
And can you tell me
This is not your problem?
We’re all in together now
There’s no way in and no way out
And can you say – it’s all too far away
it’s all too far away?
Oh, sittin’ on the uni lawns in the sun
Some of these people have seen the damage that’s been done
Posters flappin’ in the breeze that
Proclaim the bloodshed of the young
And I see other ones
Do those words spell “Blood”?
Does that Chinese lettering spell “Blood”?
Ah—la-da da etc..
Theres danger in the cliché now
there’s no way in and no way out
how hard it is
To say things so that people will understand
Sitting in the comfy chair
seeing what they say and what they wear
And tell me, do you call yourself a radical
Do you call yourself a student radical
Ah, makes me think of what I’ve heard
Some students had the courage to try to change the world
And paid the price now, yeah, but
Doesn’t the cost seem a bit absurd?
And if you know so much
Do those words spell “Blood”?
Does that Chinese lettering spell “Blood”?
Ah—la-da da etc..
I was thinkin’ about them
The other side of the world now
This is my contribution
Not that it does much good, yeah
I’m under no delusions
About what effect I have on the world’s convolutions
Do those words spell “Blood”?
Does that Chinese lettering spell “Blood”?
Ah—la-da da etc..
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9. |
Safe Home
06:47
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Safe Home
© Penelope Swales 2001
Tired but excited
And happily complaining
About such a long flight
And our aches and pains
Some of us at the start
Some at the ending
Some of us safe home
Some at journey‘s beginning
“Please remain in your seats”
The Captain said
We rolled our eyes
And we shook our heads
The he told us the news
And somewhere at the baggage carousel
It begins to sink in
And we’d just left LA
When it happened
The rush to the phones
The rush to the screens
The footage, the carnage
The horror, the screams
To rush into your arms
In Sydney’s innocent sunshine
To realise just what safe home means
Just what safe home means
And here comes the anguish
Here come the pain
Here comes the firefighter
Losing their lives in vain
Despair wrestles hope
As the death toll grows
For who knows how many families
Who just forgot what safe home means
And it starts me realising
Tell me, how many people
In the Middle East
Have tasted this terror
Have felt this grief
How much “Collateral Damage”
Have these leaders condoned
Who now talk so righteously
Can you remind me what safe home means
And here comes the media,
Beating up the story
Here come the attacks on ethnic minorities
The same old hype,
The same old hypocrisy
No mention of lives lost
Because of US foreign policy
Do you know what safe home means?
World-wide, politicians cry "cowardice!"
So why are American lives so much more precious?
The same pain, the same incomprehension
Is felt by Afghan, Iraqi, Palestinian civilians
Do you know what "civilian" means?
Do you know what "civilian" means?
And the US bombs with impunity
With its high-tech planes
Suffers no casualties
So why is that so much less cowardly
Than this so bold
So cunning and so deadly?
Can you remind me what safe home means?
So the West gets a taste
Of it's own medicine
Does it bring comprehension,
Will it breed compassion?
Can we resist the payback compulsion?
Will we remember what safe home means?
Remember what safe home means?
And here comes the anger
What revenge will we see?
Here comes the cry
“An attack on Democracy!”
Here comes the man
Who didn't even get a majority
In his much-touted Land of the Free
Can you remind me what democracy means?
Yeah, here comes Bush
Bashing on the bible
Quoting the 23rd psalm, behold
He'd be better to read 'bout
David and Goliath
Or that bit about
How you reap what you sow
Do you know what safe home means?
The rush for the phones, the rush to the screens
The footage the carnage, the horror, the screams
To rush into your arms in Sydney’s innocent sunshine
And realise just what safe home means.
Just what safe home means
I'm just trying to say
Bear it in mind
This is how all people feel w
When bombs fall from the sky
Send your thoughts out
Out on the seas
To the crowded boats of refugees
Who only want what safe home means
Who only want what safe home means
They only want what safe home means
Do you know what safe home means - Oohhh--------
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10. |
Guenevere and the Fire
03:22
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Guenevere and the Fire
© Fred Small
My grandmother was born in 1900
On a farm in New South Wales
She wed a dairyman who liked to raise a pint of ale
The first child came when she as twenty
Five more babes in seven years
That first daughter was my mother
They called her Guenevere
Little Gwen would play beneath the willow
"Yes the Queen would love some tea"
Helped with chores that never ended
Tried to mind, tried to please
Sometimes she heard the music,
Wild and strange in the summer night
"They're dirty people," warned her mother
"Never go near their campfire light"
"Stay away from the camp of the blackfellas
Little white girls have disappeared!
They drink and dance when the moon is red
Never, never let them see your golden hair!"
Came the winter of '27
So cold the milk froze in the pail
Her mother hung the nappies by the hearth
Her dad in town for a round of ale
A spark leapt from the fire that night
And wrapped her mother in a gown of flame
Flailing, dancing in a frenzy
Falling down in voiceless pain
Stillness, and the stench of burning
Then so soft, 'twas like a ghost
"Fetch the Cunninghams" she whispered
"Bring me aid, or I am lost!"
The Cunninghams were not two miles away
And they the nearest whites
Past the camp of the Aborigines
Past the demons of the night
Stay away from the camp of the blackfellas
Little white girls have disappeared!
They drink and dance when the moon is red
Never, never let them see your golden hair!
"I must run to save my mother
I must go now, I must fly!"
But still she heard her mother's tales
Of the devil drums and the evil eye
Her mother's breathing ever fainter
Gwen frozen in her fright
Seven hours 'til dawn she waited
For the safety of the light
Now she runs 'til her feet are bleeding
To the house upon the hill
Now comes the doctor's wagon speeding t
To her mother cold and still
They laid her down in the Nowra graveyard
>From the bible read a verse
Children sent to aunts and uncles
Some to Melbourne, some to Perth
Gwen packed her canvas satchel,
Could not hold the salt tears back
Turned to leave her home forever
Faced a woman gnarled and black
"Child, our hearts are heavy
With grieving for your loss
We live so close by you
Why did you not come to us?
We have herbs to heal the burning
We have salves to ease the pain
We could have helped, had we but known
And made your mother whole again"
Stay away from the camp of the blackfellas
Little white girls have disappeared!
They drink and dance when the moon is red
Never, never let them see your golden hair!
Stay away from the camp of the blackfellas
White girls have disappeared!
They drink and dance when the moon is red
Never, never let them see your golden hair!
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11. |
The Old Man in the Rock
04:27
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The Old Man in the Rock
© Penelope Swales 1997
The younger daughter of a conquering race
Walks through a desolate landscape and contemplates
Unwilling pioneers that came to this place
And what of the people that came before
Where did they go when it rains
I crawl under a jutting rock for shelter
Chorus:
And a voice says
“Sit down, stay warm, keep dry
The rain will be over by and by
It’s rare I have a visitor these days
Sit tight and listen with me
To the sweet sounds of the harmonies
Can you hear the spirits singin’ in the rain?”
You know I listened
And realised I could hear music
And see things in the sky
If I was religious
I mighta thought it was a choir of angels
An atheist woulda said it was a trick of the light.
Chorus
And the spirits sing…..
He said “The people who once walked this land
Had a name for me and a story
But I no longer know where they are”
He said “The people who now come walkin’
On the path below look sad and awkward
And they just follow the line of the scar”
He said “Do you know where my people are?”
And I knew only too well
Streets and bars and welfare departments
And prison cells
I suddenly thought – maybe I should leave
But he said no, daughter, stay
Anyone who listens hard enough can find spirit of place
And a voice says
“Sit down, stay warm, keep dry
They’ll be returning by and by
My people will survive, coz they are strong
Sit tight and listen with me
To the sweet sounds of the harmonies
They’ve been singin’ since before you came
And they’ll be singin’ after you’re gone
Ra-dat-da…..
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12. |
Aunty Betty
05:48
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Aunty Betty
© Penelope Swales 1995
Ooh, insulation. A small room away from the ground, away from the sky. Ooh,
insulation. Blankets over the windows, keep out the night, keep out the
light. We don't live together, we live seperately and winter's coming. We
don't live together, we live separately and hard times are coming. People
create their own individual rooms, their own surrogate wombs. People say to
each other "Won't you come up to my room?" People sit together - incense and
candlelight.
People talk together, sharing smoke, sharing wine. Oh, living in this city.
Oh, it's like living in a labyrinth. The dripping corridors are the
wet-brick walls and low-slung, oppressive sky. We're just creatures, small
cave-rats, living in a labyrinth. Amid the putrid phosphorescence, shop
windows, traffic lights, stalactites. Ooh, isolation. Houses on the
outskirts of town. Ooh, endless frustration. McWilliams port, sorrows to
drown. People live together, yet seperately, with their own kind. With
people that live together, share their smokes, share their wine. Oh, living
in a redneck town. Oh, it's like living in apartheid. The conciousness of
your colour and your birth is reflected in everyone's eyes, black or white.
And Aunty Betty said "I said to my nephews 'Come home, come live with me by
the creek. Come home, come home to the Land.' but they're too drunk with
anger to listen to me "Aunty Betty said "I've done my share of destroying
myself." Yeah, Aunty Betty said " I know you care, 'coz I can always tell."
Aunty Betty and I looked at each other over campfire, over breakfast. Over
two hundred years of war and hate, and Aunty Betty said, she said "I love
you, sis." Ooh, sisalation. Back in the city we seek natural ways to live
unnaturally. Ooh, implementation. Sit 'round our bar radiator drinking
herbal tea. We could live together, close to the ground, close to the sky.
Be friends with the weather. Accept the wet, embrace the dry. Oh, we try to
do it anyway. Sitting 'round a candle as if it were a campfire. Here in this
hell our race has made. Plaster caves, concrete canyons, bitumen forest
floor. We try to do it anyway, sitting 'round a candle as if it were a
campfire. But you know, Aunty Betty said we could go visit her anytime,
anytime, anytime. She said "We could live together, not seperately, but side
by side. Be friends with each other - I don't care if you're black or
white!" She said we could live together, close to the ground, close to the
sky. Be friends with each other. Accept the rough, embrace the happy times.
Aunty Betty said, Aunty Betty said, Aunty Betty said. And you know, if Aunty
Betty said it, then it must be true.
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13. |
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14. |
Steel-Hearted Annie
02:52
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Steel-Hearted Annie
© Kath Tait
Steel Hearted Annie came home from work
Through the park in the dark where the rapist lurked
Behind the bushes and about to attack
With the cold wind whistling across his back
He pounced on Annie coz she was slim
Coz she looked so frail and feminine
But he wouldn't have done it if he only knew
That she was a master of Kung Fu!
Chorus:
Steel-Hearted Annie with an iron will
Looks about as frail as a daffodil
But you don't take a chance with a small slim dame
With a punch like a piston on a steam train
Steel-Hearted Annie don't like to pose
Like a trembling victim in a movie show
She gets mad when she's in distress
Like an animal in the wilderness
There's nothing she wouldn't do to survive
Got a strong desire to stay alive
And she looks cute in pink or blue
But she is a master of kung fu
repeat chorus
Steel-Hearted Annie lived near a jail
Where a psycho-killer was released on bail
He crept stealthily through the night
Broke into her house to give her a fright
And the cold wind whistled through the window frames
Made a sound like ghost rattlin' chains
But the psycho-killer ran for his life
When he saw Annie comin' with the carving knife!
repeat chorus
Steel-hearted Annie told all her friends
Ya gotta stand up to violence
She went to classes and learned to fight
Now she's not afraid to walk around at night
She's a great big shark in a little tin can
A little firecracker with a great big bang
So just be careful what you do
Coz Annie's now a master of Kung Fu!
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15. |
So Lucky
05:30
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So Lucky
© Penelope Swales 2004
We’re so lucky to be here
In a beautiful place, in a time of peace
Of local peace, this peace is local
and it’s important to know and to remember
That it is not peaceful everywhere
We’re so lucky to sit here in the expectation that we can sit here
That no bomb will fall, that these walls will not cave in on us
Our governments may be at war, but we have no argument with anyone
That’s how we feel, that’s what we like to believe
It’s not necessarily what the people on the other side might see
But it’s only random good fortune that leads us to be born into the bosom of the strong
Where we’re so lucky to be able to worry about romance or cars
Or whether or not we like our boss
Lulled by the luxury we don’t realise
The extent of the compromise
That we’re just cogs ina machine, making money for a man
We’ll never meet
It’s important to remember that we did nothing to deserve this good luck
It’s not because we’re better, have better Karma or possess a better god
It’s certainly not because we’ve got better leaders, we’re here because
In order to have all that wealth and power, those in power need consumers
We’re so lucky to be here wearing clothes of our choice
To reveal skin to conceal skin
To pain our faces or leave them plain
To grow our hair or cut it short
We’re so lucky to be able to go out and work
And be independent of our families and of our culture
We may get lonely, we may be exposed to danger
We may get lonely, we may be exposed to danger
We may get lonely, we may be exposed to danger
But we’re still safer here than we would be almost anywhere else
It’s important to remember that we did nothing to deserve this good luck
These luxuries are the legacies of the labours and struggles of the people of the past
Of the women, of the unions, of those who worked so hard
Who risked their lives, who compromised their families, so we could be
So lucky to be here,
In a beautiful place, in a time of peace
It’s important to remember that we did nothing to deserve this good luck
It’s not because we’re better, have better Karma or possess a better god
It’s certainly not because we’ve got better leaders, we’re here because
In order to have all that wealth and power, those in power need consumers
And we’re just lucky that we happen to be the consumers
But in order for them to make money from us
They have to have something for us to consume
And that has to come from somewhere
It has to come from someone
Who once lived in a beautiful place,
In what once was a time of peace
Somewhere someone else has to have less so that we can have so much more than we need
So if we’re lucky enough to be here
In this beautiful place, in this time of peace
If we’re lucky enough to still have some freedom of movement
Some freedom of speech
Then we’re lucky enough to know
What it is that we’ve been seeing
If we’re lucky enough to live
In what must be called, for want of a better word, a democracy
Then we have to shoulder the responsibility
Because we are responsible for the actions
of our leaders.
I’m calling on you to wake from your dream
While you’re, while you’re, while you’re still
While we’re still
So lucky to be here
In a beautiful place, in a time of peace
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Penelope Swales Boolarra, Australia
Penelope Swales has been articulating the human condition with passion and humour for 30+ years. She sings about politics, love, friendship, the unbreakable bond between us and dogs and the impact of the Internet on society. She won the 2019 Alistair Hulett Songs for Social Justice Award with “Cambridge Analytica”. “The Ides of March in Christchurch" was short-listed for the same award in 2020. ... more
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