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Midnight Oil

Burnie

Brought up in a world of changes
Part time cleaner in a holiday flat
Stare out to sea at the ships at night
No anaesthesia, Im gonna work on it day to day
No zephyr no light relief it seems
But maybe its a dream
Im lying back in a row of timber cases placed out
On the dock with nightmare faces looking at me
And I can see now, and I wanna be free now
This is my home
This is my sea
Dont paint it with the future, of factories
I want to stay, I feel okay
Theres nothing else as perfect
Ill have my way
Brought up in a world of changes
Waste product, pedestrian, limb from limb
Short changed by the surfing priest again
Two children in the harbour
They play their game stormwater drain

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Blot

Welcome stranger listen in
The presumption of innocence was buried again
Carve up-selloff
Triumphalism gotta be a curse or even worse
Its inherited its recurring, oh god
I have walked I have swum Ive hitchhiked and
Ive run do you know what I mean
I have sat with my beer in the eh drive in do you
Know what Ive seen
The triumphalist and narcissist are joined ear
And hip and phone
Theyre worshipping their chrome
Carve up-selloff
Some people speak with chainsaw tongue,
Some just golden arches smile
Some relish others suffering, some just run and hide
I have dreamed I have schemed I have made
Myself clean do you know what I mean
I have sat I have strayed got caught up
And I prayed do you know what Ive seen

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Power & The Passion

People, wasting away in paradise
Going backward, once in a while
Moving ahead, falling behind
What do you believe, what do you believe
What do you believe is true
Nothing they say makes a difference this way
Nothing they say will do
Take all the trouble that you can afford
At least you wont have time to be bored
Oh the power and the passion, oh the temper of the time
Oh the power and the passion
Sometimes youve got to take the hardest line
Sunburnt faces around, with skin so brown
Smiling zinc cream and crowds, sundays the beach never a cloud
Breathing eucalypt, pushing panel vans
Stuff and munch junk food
Laughing at the truth, cos gough was tough til he hit the rough
Uncle sam and john were quite enough
Too much of sunshine too much of sky
Its enough to make you want to cry

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Common Ground

These are not dispassionate words of the cool
The headline still rules the editors a fool
Shall we douse out the flames or will everybody fuse
And leave us stranded here tomorrow
I heard a calling out, a cry from the heart
From the towns of cement and the beauty
A whisper its turned howl, man he didnt know
He was standing waiting for tomorrow
Nothings left, nothings found, there must be some common ground
I could never figure the calendars flow
Nor can I work out how the wild, wild wind blows
But were ready from within and were starting to go
Away from the place of no tomorrow
Nothings left, nothings found, there must be some common ground
Nothings left, (? ? ? ) I see there must be some common ground
Oh the wrecking fields are a terrible place
With a sulphurous smell and a frightening pace
And the hook goes early and the critic is king
Its hard to stay human and stand in the ring
Theres no time to be absent, a clown or a fool

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Forgotten Years

Few of the sins of the father, are visited upon the son
Hearts have been hard, our hands have been clenched in a fist too long
Our sons will never be soldiers, our daughters will never need guns
These are the yrs between
These are the yrs that were hard fought and won
Contracts torn at the edges, old signatures stained with tears
Seasons of war and peace, these should not be forgotten yaers
Still it aches like tetanus, it reeks of politics
How many dreams remain? this is a feeling too strong to contain
The hardest years, the darkest yrs, the roarin yrs, the fallen yrs
These should not be forgotten yrs
The hardest yrs, the wildest yrs, the desperate and divided yrs
We will remember, these should not be forgotten yrs
Our shoreline was never invaded, our country was never in flames
This is the calm we breathe, this is a feeling too strong to contain
Still it aches like tetanus, it reeks of politics
Signatures stained with tears, who can remember
Weve got to remember
The hardest...
Forsaking aching breaking yrs, the time and tested heartbreak yrs

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Lucky Country

Speed, and this
Theres a feeling I get when I look to the sun
Love, its so tough
Cause it raises your hopes and then it makes you run
Were all looking for a shorter day
Were all looking for an easy way
Even when the debts are dead and gone
Down, the stairs
And an eight mile drive waits for you to turn on
Hear, the time clocks sing
And the smoke in the distance reaches the eye line
Were all working on a shorter day...
No conversation as you go
Theres so much space the heat moves you
Terracotta homes, backyard barbeque and eucalyptus smell
Its fine on the clothes line
Its fast food and slow life and red roof
My silence, comic interruptions
Surely theres some relief from atomic art
And the fragile state of world events

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E-beat

There is a place were coming to
It is not green it is not blue
I hope that you understand
The devil was a dancing on the old foreshore
Hitting up on bright lights and the liquor stores
Save me, please save me
We got to prick that bubble in the shopping arcade
Gonna make amends for the things weve said
I do hope that you understand
Dirty washing on the line, footsteps in the sand
Whose gonna lead us on to some promised land
Save me
The devil was a dancing on the old foreshore
Hitting up on bright lights and the liquor stores
Yeah tell me, please save me
The land lives longer if we listen to the earth beat
Lives go forward if we listen to the hearts speak
Seasons wont falter, stars wont fade away
I know
Gonna find myself a place in the country

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Bedlam Bridge

In this city with no footpath theres a building with no people
There is crime and gun decisions
Theres a street of heat and hawkers, theres a house of hope drifters
Theres a gang that shoots then listens
Theres a place that knows no poverty, a town without pollution
Theres a soul with good intentions
There are canyons full of movie stars, churches made of metal
There are mountains made of muscle
We have leaders who are anxious, we have captains not courageous
Captains tumbling into madness
But theres a main who makes no enemies, a body never breathless
No ambition ever hopeless
Up on bedlam bridge somebody is waiting
Up on bedlam bridge Im shot to heaven
Oh, up on bedalm bridge, waiting
In these locked and shackled neighbourhoods, bridge and tunnel diplomats
See the golden ghettos creeper
Crazy flags from history, songs for the white house gangsters
Guns for hellgate railway sleepers
But theres a main who makes no enemies, a body never breathless

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Tone Poem

like a heat wave breaking as you smell warm rain
we can fade away or start over again
in a high five season in a cut-price land
the southern cross don't shine on that invisible hand
where will you live when the fields are falling?
where will you live when the feedlots calling?
everybody standing in the treetops saying
where will you live? where will you live?
everyone dosen't have to beg or borrow
were going to move into a new tomarrow
where will you live? where will you live?
invisable hand clutching at the throat
statistical sham an emperor's rags its sad its so sad
because equality's the only plea green fields are burning
the reefs on fire and bellies are swollen they're hurting
a willing victims I don''t think so
we won't be pinned agains't the wall
there is no slogan that can feed you
where will you live when the fields are falling?
where will you live when the feedlots calling?

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Blue Sky Mine

Hey, hey-hey hey
Therell be food on the table tonight
Hey, hey, hey hey
Therell be pay in your pocket tonight
My gut is wrenched out it is crunched up and broken
A life that is led is no more than a token
Wholl strike the flint upon the stone and tell me why
If I yell out at night theres a reply of bruised silence
The screen is no comfort I cant speak my sentence
They blew the lights at heavens gate and I dont know why
But if I work all day at the blue sky mine
(therell be food on the table tonight)
Still I walk up and down on the blue sky mine
(therell be pay in your pocket tonight)
The candy store paupers lie to the share holders
Theyre crossing their fingers they pay the truth makers
The balance sheet is breaking up the sky
So Im caught at the junction still waiting for medicine
The sweat of my brow keeps on feeding the engine
Hope the crumbs in my pocket can keep me for another night

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