Not only have I provided the lyrics here, but I have also included my notes and alternative versus and working titles: TO LINGER IS NOT TO REMAIN - Chet 6.3 The walk and talk differs this is evident And action may not represent the sentiment The petitions are an element But far from what the movement meant When boomers were at picket fence The plot thickens when The pot calls the kettle black And that colour is the blinker That can linger in the back Of the mind of the partially privileged Still casting some distance Act like masters when piss hits Still regardless of histories - DROP That they never read about Don’t contemplate the better route Or compliment the men around All continents have some mud in the well And its up to individuals to get up and yell But please don’t do it from the sofa Or the confines of the Copa Don’t be tokens with a poster And keep knocking like Jehovah Be the beacon of the coda Resolve the movement Call bullshit in the pulpit Don’t gather with the cool kids Pool the resource for the foolish The face value tactic Least done in practice Leads to least done its cactus No blossom revolution Its as stagnant as pollution Clutters up the real talk Don’t get a gun and shoot it I give no fucks for looting But give less for putrid humans And detest this messes fusion White power white wash whitesplain The whites plot white crops Decimate tradition so efficient That we pray to white gods Whites doves meaning hope Black gloves mean were broke Black Pete wrap sheets Black day black week Black cats black dreams Black pawns go last This is no mistake Black prisons on the take Still 3rd world till this day - drum break (sound bite) We leave em all for dead And then were blaming them Cooking in the hot box Children women men (Sound bites and interviews) (maybe scrap last verse and make instrumental to finish?) (come in after horns) Contagions replacing A complacent cadence debating a nation Of Ill health still dealt With blatant replacement From Eurasian to caymans The statements lame and abrasive To taint the name & give face lifts Acquaint the brain with the same shit Sick of everyday the heavens paved A path to the ruins With bullshit the foundation Where’s ya fuckin god now - horns come in for a break - VOCAL FX Wash your hands in the matrix The after life’s a pantomime The standard lie is handled fine Passed from the top dog Down the line in clandestine Fashion the pact lacks tact And out of rations The benefactors Halifax & proprietors of fracking All inaction Like when the fucking planet burns It’s like the cannon turns to planet earth To blow the axis spread it’s girth For what it’s worth (have other vocalists do this with me) I don’t see that holding hands And preaching unity Herd immunity And cursing poor community Is any different To all the talking heads impurity And all of this new scrutiny Is old hat for you & me If you remember the past then Draw on 1000 And if you don’t get my reference Then get on the gram & start pouting fascist governments need outing ...

Here is a scenario that may transcend from the subject matter illustrated, to all realms of inequality and injustice. 

A black woman born in America in 1902, with a white aunt through marriage (this alone would have been controversial) as a child would have watched her aunt unable to vote until the woman was 18 years old. All throughout her schooling she may have had conversations at the dinner table about politics and recognised the fact that her aunt was unable to have a voice regarding political leaders and therefor political decisions. In her 18th year she would have seen womens suffrage and all its hostile resistance see her aunt finally able to vote in democratic elections. She herself would not have the same rights until she was 62 years old. Reflect on the social and psychological impact of this scenario. This is modern history and this is America. Although I am in Australia, I use this American example because I feel we mimic in many ways the progress and ideals of America. For those that don’t agree, the 1902 Commonwealth Franchise Act removed Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people’s right to vote in federal elections. This right was reinstated in 1962, however First Nations people were not included in the census until 1967. So as you see not only are we the sister nation to Americas racism, we are also a little behind their progress. 

It is also important to mention racisms psychological impacts on whites in America and Australia. You can do that in your own time. I will not waste one character sympathising here, the information is out there, the evidence clear and the time for seeing who built your country has well passed. Much like America, we ignore the systems of social cohesion, agriculture and land management of our original custodians. 

Inequality is not a gender gap or a right to vote or police profiling, it is a deeply imbedded mental framework that inhibits us from making rational decisions based on what is right.

We met as young teen boys Well at least I was You were young enough to be amused We gambled cards & dice on the bus heading home You taught me things that grown ups never knew We grew and all our games, they grew with us But we still let our games keep us entertained till finished Took you under my wing but now I set that You - were holding me in flight I thought that I was protecting you From all the crooked crows at night Time time time Doesn’t always heal Time time time Doesn’t seem that long x 2 And then as men we walked on ancient roads Followed the path of saxons, where romans withdrew My flight got shakey but I knew you still held me underneath Till I flew away not to know I was leaving Truth Now you’re bitter and I can’t find my way back up The skies so far away Seems I am needing you And if you ever need to hide in my wings again I’ll fly wherever just to be your friend Time time time Doesn’t always heal Time time time Doesn’t always seem that long Time time time Is all we have to gain Because time time time It’s all that we have lost But time can be quite a cost Look at our 20’s Done plenty Accolades hung plenty Sailor songs sung plenty Paid some costs and levies And now the ocean spread between us May as well be earth to Venus Stars to cross just way too many It’s time Time But then before I even got off the train You were shot while going for your morning run by a retired police officer Now we’ll never have last embrace

Move like the morning ignores the dark in passing Deplores the everlasting Evolves and rolls no asking Cause permission is a given The day will coexist With everybody that is living The decision is the math Do the division and subtract & If the dead are still fresh Then composition is the gimmick No catch It’s as literal as minerals And longitudes to map A common use for hats It’s proper super Nats Like coppers use binoculars called twitter Noosing facts It’s as obvious as black When it’s not navy blue But when the nights seems crack A little impressive Minimal pressing spiritual blessing From Ra or Sheba Or Vishnu or peter For me probs neither A ball of gas that heats up Making sauce of poor Bonita Keepin orphans warm like heaters Like Keidis needs to keep it Intravenous foetus breathes it Let’s appease it Grow crops Swim when it’s not hot Don’t stare for long Cause there’s some cretins in the mosh Even in the broad day I fear for broads Across the board the boarders border Bearing cross from here to abroad the cost is what The days like night if your lost Night is like day if the fiending don’t stop Don’t stop X Can’t stop No chorus to bore us Not smooth no its porous Deplore us abhor us The rapport is ignore us To the core its enormous The proportions distort us Every morning is gorgeous If you explore with poorest See that more is before us If in orders fedoras Tippin jaws like I’m horus And then contort to the gorges Holding court for good causes Making sport of portly porters And horders of law and order Making war on the borders No more….

What is coloured? What is colour? Can something have no colour? Can someone have no colour? Is having no colour, as in not being coloured - normal? If so, being coloured - is not . . . . Normal? 
Generally the standard, the stock, the mainstream or the common is known as normal as it does not differ from the conventional, the customary, the wonted. 

With this in mind Coloured is not normal, at least it is different to normal. - it is different And what is coloured? As far as modern rhetoric is concerned Coloured is black. What is black? Black is African, black is Non-European, black is indigenous. 
These statements are quite arbitrary, but they are seen as natural, historical, geographical and sociopolitical facts. These facts are the norm. Based on these “facts”, if Normal is common and proper and coloured is not the standard and coloured is black, then is black different from normal therefore not normal? 

I fail to see any other conclusion - its formal This is clearly by design, this idea of colour or coloured. It enables the divide to be clear and the conquer to have reason. Colour takes away the responsibility of the normal and accepted. It makes one divine and the other at the mercy of divinities gift. The gift to join in on the normal, not to be normal - that just can not be. Coloured is exotic at best, not normal, not of the decree But an anomaly At the behest of the monopoly Not commonly accepted But an obvious exception Conception determines the shade And coloured is the difference That can predetermine fate And its not up for debate The clear and present danger Makes our colour palate state what’s imperative To living life in certain ways

This sad state of affairs continues For the colonised it seems like forever For me, it is forever - for I have no history I have only the years I have been here I live in a white world, so my whiteness has been supercharged to be the real me My blackness has been denied, it has been the subject of laughter disbelief and ridicule We blend in well, us from the island With our dutch name and throwback light skinned cousins They almost give pass to the darker ones I am asked to leave the meeting or at least to not comment, too much When I am amidst my black brothers and sisters And I am told who I am when I am with my European brethren My 3 passports mean nothing to 2 of those nations 3 continents have the name home to me, yet none are If Africa is my father that ventured across the Indian Ocean to meet my mother Britain in the land she had stolen, who will take me in? Where am I to run? Who’s flag do I fly and whose battles do I fight? Rhetorical questions are best left unanswered, I apologise for the deceit - I’m not waving any flag My allegiance is to my love and my battle is one that has no enemy, if it did I would be in dire straits as they would be too many, everyone is much too many I wrote a poem about my identity, to shed light on my own darkness You who are someone You who are no one in particular You who have no home nor no vernacular You whom seek nothing in search of everything Tipping over dark green bottles to see if the liquid inside is red or white knowing very well the label will tell you right You who can dance and can jump and racialise yourself like its ok but you hate it and know you should You who can judge and manipulate and use privilege and be unkempt yet regal and know whats good Good for all or good for the gander that you despise You who’s affinity sways to the darker sections of your complexion because the lighter side has misplaced pride and a closet so very full of bones you are afraid of even the smells intention Who could blame you You who are white You who are black A person of colours

I have sat down with this track several times Trying to write honestly, earnestly Aiming to express what I really feel about prejudice, about racial injustice About class divide and misogyny Trying to be poetic, then attempting to be literal, then as any attempt at some sort of narrative failed I tried to recount historical events and factualise brutality. Then I realised that isn’t even a word. It is all so plain, yet so complex. If you do not know the why’s then how can you have so many opinions on solutions to the when’s? I know the why’s, at least I think I do. Yet I fail to describe it to do this song justice, I can not quite articulate these thoughts. I can not tell you how deeply I feel about how we all are and how we seem to have been for a very long time. My disgust is beyond my own recollection, it surprises me at times, it meanders around my tolerance and then I turn around and it is standing tall and braced right in front of me, mockingly smiling waiting for me to speak so it can say with confidence - I fucking told you. I have always been so afraid to speak and my default response to this is to always speak, lucky for me there is research involved but that does not help to relinquish this hatred and disappointed in the form of poem and prose, I write without revision, I type like a madman and I have no idea who I am speaking to or why but I do know that I am tired, not physically or mentally but emotionally I am tired, I am not violent though I often wish I was so I could just destroy the space between the eyes that stare down on people that need the palm of an open hand to brush away their fringe and say I will help you see, rather than the back hand, the knuckled edge of intolerance and bigotry and indifference laced with stupidity and fear - fuck them, fuck those people, but I can not fuck those people, they need love and not the violent kind as vile as they are, they need love So here is love Here’s love There once was a place Free of all confines of a tight lipped race Free of institutions that defined said race Free of all pollution from a hurried rat race Free of evolution dubbed by fitness of a race Free of constitutions that debated bred race Free of any mention of identifying race And free of the conditions that have devastated race Free to be perceived by the omission of the deeds Is the way to feed at night on a stolen peeps seed And a way to sleep at night on stolen land and have a dream Convincing inner selves that the winners have the means Free Just a concept of those that are Just appropriated coat of arms Just a notion that is chosen last First is the struggle then the freedom starts Free Janis said its nothing left to lose Victor Frankl said its something we choose But if youre born free, then need to gain freedom At some point your oppressed need liberation for a reason When do the shackles tighten when do the locks click When if you the lucky one does freedom have a lost grip Free Whos free (CHORUS) Born with freedom Die in chains Born with freedom Die in vein Born with freedom Don’t die the same Born with freedom Finish in restraints Born with freedom X 4 From the moment we are born we are free We walk and we talk before we have an understanding of this concept - free White in Australia is normal White in Australia can practice behaviours that black people can not Drinking in a park when white is the great Aussie bbq Drinking in a park when black is a threat to safety Gathering to protest when white is politics Gathering to protest when black is rebellion Unemployed when white is struggle Unemployed when black is advantageous Sleeping outside when white is camping Sleeping outside when black is primitive Yelling when white is passion Yelling when black is violence Being white and poor is battling Being black and poor is of their doing White is the desired participant Black is the detested belligerent White is the cops passer by Black is the opposite catching the eye White is defined by the stature and the class Black is defined by the colour of your arse Whites given right before the facts are presented Blacks are denied and the facts are resented We had a white Australia policy Before we have black sovereignty

Warning this contains names of the deceased Remember John Peter pat? Was the year I was born I think The year that 4 w.a coppers killed a 16 year old kid Little black fella beaten to death Fractured skull torn aorta No charges were met Remember Kingsley Richard Dixon They say he hung himself in prison The case that sparked hawk To begin royal commission His mother Alice fought for decades Was a leader in the fight Felt she got nowhere till she killed herself one night Remember David John Gundy Well he was asleep in his bed When the cops raided the wrong man that ended up dead Blasted in his fucking room No crime committed Cops said it was an accident and all were acquitted Remember Cameron Doomadgee Murdered by sergeant Chris Hurley That mother fucker went to trial And then the prick went home early The autopsy report claimed he probably fell that morning Fell hard enough to bleed to death from ruptured fuckin organs Remember Ms Dhu She was only 22 Locked up for unpaid fines Poor soul wouldn’t see it through She was crying in pain For 3 gruelling days Called a junky by the cops Shut up bitch we know it’s fake She got to the hospital Handcuffed to the bed Had a heart attack and In an hour Ms Dhu Pronounced dead Remember Rebecca Maher I’m sure the cops don’t They didn’t follow the procedure So she died and it’s a joke Think you’re woke This issues bigger than The hatred cops provoke Remember David Dungay On his last earthly day Was held down and sedated By five screws at long bay He said he couldn’t breathe His misconduct eating biscuits And yes I’m fucking serious That’s the shit these people live with Remember Tanya day 55 years of age fell asleep on the train and then was thrown in a cage She died 5 hours later trauma led bleeding On the brain And 27 years earlier her uncle died the same way Remember Veronica Walker She too died in prison She was in maximum security For fucking shop lifting And walker remember that case At least remember the cop that shot him Cause that mans a disgrace I apologise for saying names I respect indigenous customs But it’s time we do something More than nothing I’m disgusted I live in the land of genocide On and offshore detention I live in a place where cops kill Our people with no sentence Where peodophiles are pardoned And blacks have no justice Run over by cars or baked as the sun hits It’s fucking gruesome This whole place is putrid Say their names

Alright your honour This what we got thus far A missing body cam And some blood up in the car Bullet holes in the floor and Some superficial scars A dead black Walpiri man And a cop haled a star. Over achieving Canberra bloke Philanthropist parents Military family and they’re here to pose declarants Bravery awards and accolades Cleaner than he’s happy days Strive for the community And made a point of walking godly ways I know this mans kind Humility and servitude Chose our great police force So his life could find a purpose to Better the people Better as equals Never as evil In my hearts honest opinion He’s the saint that paints the steeple Now this victim Died from acts of self defence A criminal Unhinged Without the will to see the sense Now we all know the dangers That the Territory’s rangers See the violence in these strangers And the crimes that are complacent To me it’s blatant Murder is a heinous charge If we make this the example Then we treat the force with disregard Mr white knows that every night We fight foes And every kind of right can be denied In light of fines though Indigenous groups Do not inherently coupe But know this current state of youth Behave belligerently crude Indignant to prove They feel there treatment is rude And between me and you this Simply is not true And let’s be honest They don’t care for our assistance See our deeds as just a hindrance Only heed to their resistance And forever be persistent For the handouts of our system And they wonder why our prisons Are full Cause they’re indifferent So how are we to judge this man This civil serving patron Of an Ill deserving nation He’s showed us patience at the hands of the mob And now he fights for reputation he fights liberty and fights for his job it’s wrong Well thanks for those anecdotal statements Buzz words adjacent To the rhetoric of a racist Now the plaintiff In good lights been painted The media saw the jury praise this man And victim blaming So let’s stick to the facts Start from the beginning And highlight these callous acts Not limelight the defendants tact He was shot in his home Cuffed after the fact Taken into custody with bullets in his back No medical assistance Community ignored Police sustained no injuries And the evidence is poor If I was charged with murder at the hands of a gun Would I be free to live for 7 months with dad and mum Should a routine warrant check Lead to sudden death And why would any minor suspects Fear a fatal threat The problems are systemic Brutally pandemic We protect every copper like a cleric With all merit It’s pathetic We have over 400 victims Not one perpetrator not one conviction If this isn’t a tell tale sign of how we govern Then I cease to understand how we imply that this is justice Innocent men comment Guilty parties hide Truth is transparent And the antonym are lies 3% population jail house is 25 50 for the youth No medication so they die How on earth would you or I See the torture of these people Lead them to just believe We see them as our equals When we came from overseas To change the fabric of their nation When we've altered what was ancient In a few generations That we’re complacent Is a gross understatement Where the vagrants that patrol their land With impatience and with hatred