|
by John Williamson |
|
What am I gonna do - what about the future? |
|
Gotta draw the line without delay |
|
Why shouldn't I get emotional - the bush is sacred |
|
Ancient life will fade away |
|
Over the hill they go, killing another mountain |
|
Gotta fill the quota - can't go slow |
|
Huge machinery wiping out the scenery |
|
One big swipe like a shearer's blow |
|
Rip rip woodchip - turn it into paper |
|
Throw it in the bin, no news today |
|
Nightmare, dreaming - can't you hear the screaming? |
|
Chainsaw, eyesore - more decay |
|
Remember the axemen knew their timber |
|
Cared about the way they brought it down |
|
Crosscut, blackbutt, tallowood and cedar |
|
Build another bungalow - pioneer town |
|
I am the bush and I am koala |
|
We are one - go hand in hand |
|
I am the bush like Banjo and Henry |
|
It's in my blood - gonna make a stand |
|
Rip rip woodchip - turn it into paper |
|
Throw it in the bin, no news today |
|
Nightmare, dreaming - can't you hear the screaming? |
|
Chainsaw, eyesore - more decay |
|
Rip rip woodchip - turn it into paper |
|
Throw it in the bin - don't understand |
|
Nightmare, dreaming - can't you hear the screaming? |
|
Stirs my blood - gonna make a stand |