Imagine your a mother
\nyes a kangaroo
\nevery time you venture out
\nthey take pot shots
\nat you
\nyou have a little joey
\nto look after and try
\nbut men are out there ready
\nto despatch you
\nfrom on high <\/p>\n
its sport to them
\nits fun to see you
\nwrithing
\nin agony as the bullet
\nhits your chest
\nand you
\nknow your joey
\nwill be dead in minutes
\nand they are clueless
\nto the sins they do<\/p>\n
the Bush has been our home
\nfor many centuries
\nbefore the white face
\ncame with sparking sticks
\nwe shared this land
\nwith the first man
\ntrue Australians
\nbut they were moved on fast
\nand knocked for six
\nthe aborigine was also
\nafter us
\nbut shared respect
\nand therefore tended to
\ntake out the weaker specimens
\nallowing mothers generally
\nto bring their babies up
\na sentient view<\/p>\n
Now days this new breed of man
\nhas ugliness,a sick heart
\nand intentions to deprive
\nthey see us as a threat
\nand therefore will not let
\nus live and play
\nand just well just survive
\nSo many of the mothers
\nin our mob have been attacked
\ntheir joeys ripped out of their pouch
\nand whacked and whacked and whacked
\nthey get into a frenzy
\nthe white faces look red
\nthey sweat and jump about a lot
\nand do this till we’re dead<\/p>\n
Imagine your a mother
\nfacing this kind of threat
\nyou have to forage in the bush
\nthat is how life’s set
\nup for you,and if there’s drought
\nyou have to, find some way
\nof getting water and getting food
\nits the only way to stay
\nalive out here
\nthe sun is good and hot
\nand the wind can be
\ndevastating so we have to eat
\nat least daily
\nand so we venture out at night
\nhoping above hope
\nthat we can find something to eat
\njust hoping we can cope<\/p>\n
The hotel chains are buying
\nour flesh, it is a nerve
\nbut then their cooks decided
\nour meat is good to serve
\nOur skin is used for white men’s shoes
\nand footballs we’ve been told
\nthe corporates have money
\nand power and we are sold
\ndown the river daily
\nbut the white men
\nwho would sell
\ntheir grandmothers for 50 bucks
\nthat’s what I’ve heard tell
\nSo what chance has a mother got
\nYes me a Kangaroo
\nthousands of my brothers perish
\nand some go to the zoo
\nstuck in cramped conditions
\na gawped at everyday
\ntormented by the white kid’s
\nthat’s what others say<\/p>\n
The problem is the men are moving
\ncloser
\ntheir highways are laid down
\nand all their noise
\nfrightens off the birds and insects
\nour world’s torn a’sunder
\nand all the natural splendour and
\nthe joys
\nare fast becoming rarer
\nI can tell you
\nI too await the bullets
\nthat do fly
\nexpecting that my joey
\nwill be battered in a moment
\nand tossed onto the hot red earth
\nto die.<\/p>\n
The fat cats stuck in Canberra
\nsit on their leather seats
\nproclaiming this and that
\nstuffy and dull
\nbut they listen to farmers
\nand people with big gardens
\nand so the need is heard
\nthe wword is cull
\nslaughter us and be paid
\nthese assassins
\nthese bounty hunting slobs
\ncan’t wait to try
\nand drive out with their 4×4’s
\ntyres spinning as their engine roars
\nand see to it that many of us die<\/p>\n
rown onto the <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The plight of the Kangaroo the animal here in Australia long before the paid assassins turned up Continue reading