Native rights are one thing

There is apathy and imperturbability
The islanders and the Aboriginals do
Hunt for dugong in amongst the eel grass
And the sea turtles spearing them, its true
These are rare and sensitive beautiful animals
Native rights is one thing but each kill
Takes a time and is painful to the animals
Why on earth so much blood do they spill

Flipping over turtles and letting flap away
Exhausting themselves and getting stressed
In the hot sun day on day
And coming back to watch them
Still alive and trying
But sadly slammed with Concrete slabs
And still without them dying
Often not until the carapace is smashed
Then the poor thing dies a death
Its whole existence dashed

Similarly with dugongs
Sensitives of the sea
Who come in close for eel grass
And the natives constantly
Use their spears and slaughter them
An ugly picture here
Drowned often behind the boats
Subjected to such fear

The islanders so many of them
Are unseeing of pure life
Uninspired and unexcited
Giving them so much strife
Frightening them and making them suFfer
These vulnerable sweet souls
And its down to native rights
And ongoing controls.

There is much pain and suffering
Unhappy times are here
So much desolation
They undergo much fear
Boys doing the harpooning
and adding their body weight
Diving into the turtles
Imagine that as fate.
They do not have regretfulness
And this without a doubt
Murdered really native style
Which is what its all about

There has ro be some compromise
The native rights brigade
Have to realise the worth
And every soul thats strayed
Anywhere near their harpoons
Perhaps should swim away
We have to save these glorious souls
Help them live another day

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