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~~~ Lance Brady! Where is he now? ~~~
Ninety eight, they say he was,
When they put him in that bed;
Now he's gone, he's disappeared,
Or maybe he is dead.
They say old Lance had lost the plot,
Dementia so they say;
He didn't know what time it was,
Or, if it was night or day.
He had walked the streets of Alice,
Picking bumpers for his tin;
And to see a man reduced to that,
Was a God Almighty sin.
They laughed at him, made him a joke,
They had forgot about his past;
If they had been where he had been,
Those fools would never last.
He was born up in the top end,
But no one knew quite where;
And when ya' asked him where it was,
He said, he didn't bloody care.
'Cos, his mother went and dumped him,
With a tribe of local blacks;
And said that she would soon return,
But she never did come back.
He learnt the ways of black men,
And of the things they did believe;
He learnt about their dream-time,
And things, the whites cannot perceive.
He was breakin' wild brumby's,
At the age of seven years;
And chasin' scrubber bullocks down,
And never showed no fear.
He broke horses in the Territory,
And in Western Queensland too;
And some-times he went to WA,
To break another few.
But that was many years ago,
His race, it's over it's been run;
And the only thing, he's left to face,
Is, his final setting of the sun.
For he had climbed a spinnin' windmill,
Got hit, slipped, landed on his head:
When he got up and shook himself,
He thought, that he was flamin' dead.
He climbed his horse and headed,
To the fettlers on the Finke;
He'd dropped his swag and tucker bag,
He had no water left to drink.
It took him, three days to get there,
From ridin' day and night;
And when he rode into our camp,
By gees we got a fright.
There was this old man, upon a horse,
With dry blood, caked across his face;
His horse was lame and limpin',
So to his aid we raced.
We got him down and cleaned him up,
I knew him straight away;
I said, "Hey your Lance Brady,"
He said, "And you're that kid that run away,"
He remembered me from Curtin Springs,
And he grabbed me by the hand;
It's good to see a face I know,
And it good to see ya' brand.
The other blokes had gathered around,
And asked, what the old man said;
I told them they'd, best get him to town,
Or soon he will be dead.
We put him on the Gangers cart,
And got him into town;
I'm surprised he even made it,
That man of great renown,
They stuck him in to hospital,
And patched the old bloke up;
But they said he'd never be the same,
Sorta' like, he'd never fill the cup.
He wandered 'roud the Alice,
Pickin' bumpers here and there;
And not one flamin' mongrel,
Seem to even bloody care.
Then the cops they come and got him,
And put him in a home;
The nurses filled him full of drugs,
So he could no more roam.
I went to see old Lance one day,
And he looked me in the eye;
He said, "Please mate don't leave me here,
It's not a place to die."
I asked him, "What was I to do,
To get him out of here;"
He said "Just tell the flamin' nurse,
That we're goin' for a beer."
I smiled at him and touched his hand,
And said, "I'll see what I can do;
But I'd better mind me manners mate,
Or I'll end up in a blue."
Anyways, I got Lance out,
In a bloody wheel-chair;
And he asked me if, I could take him home,
To see, if his horse was there.
They told him that they had put it down,
But they had lied right from the start;
I'd took it home to keep it safe,
'Cos the horse was part of Lance's heart.
Lance got out that wheel-chair,
And said, "Lets put his saddle on;
Then I'll get on, you turn ya' back,
And close ya' eyes, until I'm gone."
I did exactly what he asked,
'Cos I knew this was his end:
Then he said, "I'll not back,
God bless you, my dear friend."
I watched him as he rode away,
And I couldn't help but cry;
'Cos I knew at last there'd be no grief,
For, he'd found his place to die.
January 29, 1999
~~ 214 ~~
~~~ Billy Tea and Damper ~~~
I'm livin' in the city now,
And I haven't boiled the billy now,
And 'round the fire late at night,
But!
Billy tea, good old billy tea,
With kangaroo and veggie's,
The tea ya' buy today's no good,
And dodger, bloody dodger,
They say its full of fibre,
I dream about those good old days,
Gee, wouldn't it be wonderful,
March 10, 1999
~~ 219 ~~
~~~ Me Old Black Billy ~~~
I remember me old black billy;
In the creek where, I'd get me water from,
Then I'd just sit and, look for hours at a time,
But here I am, being me, that's who,
May 16, 1999
~~ 225 ~~
~~~ My Old Black Fella Friend ~~~
We'd meet at Windy Corner, on the Gunbarrel late that night,
But he wasn't there when I arrived, there only was his gin,
There'd been drinkin' at the mission and, they'd got drunk and had a fight,
I asked if he's done the killin', she said, "By crickey no,"
We drove and drove all through the night, the old gins, eyes were open wide,
I took the gin to old Bills place, when we got into town,
They said the cops, they had forgot, about the old and tribal way,
You see, Snowy didn't say too much, he just sat, and then began to sing,
You don't mix ya' grog with petrol, it's not the black-mans way,
Now old Snowy he was dying, he just sat, began to moan,
So we never got to Christopher, to make that golden find,
August 7, 1999
~~ 255 ~~
~~~ A Dogga' of Great Renown ~~~
Old Bernie was a dogga',
He must 'ave been 'least eighty,
Old Bernie had his billy on,
He asked, where was I headed,
He asked if I'd, been there before,
"I lived there, many years ago,"
"They, 'ad a lots of dogs up there,
"I'd trap them dogs and get their ears,
"But that never seemed to 'appen,
"Enough of me," He smiled and said,
"I'll be workin' with a bloke called Norm,"
"And 'e's really not, the sorta' bloke,
"But, Yalgoo 'as got some bonzer folks,
"Missus Hodder, that's 'er name,
"Anyway, go and look 'er family up,
"They put me up, and fed me,
"But, you'll find that when you meet 'em,
We talked and talked for hours,
'Cos, old Bernie had, said many things,
And as the years go flying by,
He told me how to keep my faith,
Now, when I'm lost, and when I'm sad,
October 20, 1999
~~ 256 ~~
~~~ Harold ~~~
"You're as good as bloody Walter,"
"You are young, you give me heart,
I was just a lad of tender years,
I'd wandered down, some blue stone steps,
I'd, went there only just by chance,
There was billiard tables everywhere,
And behind a desk a picture stood,
But, the man who stood beside that desk,
"No fear," He said, "That's not me,
He talked about the good old days,
"I seen it with me own two eyes," He said,
Then he pointed to that picture
"So, I opened up this billiard hall,"
That happened many years ago,
I never did meet Walter,
It was like that I was with him,
November 7, 1999
~~ 283 ~~
~~~ That Place Past Never-Never ~~~
I was tryin' to tell this fella'
There ain't no grass or water there
Not a bug or snake or centipede
There's not a tree to shade a man,
"You never hear a sound," I said
But you'd hear that roving wind you see,
That fella' he just laughed at me, and said,
That fella' was a city bloke
"I've been there mate," I said to him
The blacks don't go to that parched land
But white men came to that hot place
They put up shacks and shantytowns
The gold they sought was plentiful
Then the flies they came and diseases too
The days they came and slowly went
Then the ones that lived just moved along,
Those holes they dug they soon collapsed
Then the sheets of tin just blew away,
And all that left is nothing there
So the devil got his desert back
That fella' he just looked at me
January 27, 2000
~~ 309 ~~
~~~ A Mans Best Mate ~~~
"It's been a 'ard days treck today," the old man mumbled,
"Ah," he says as he looks to the sun, "It's time to boil the billy mate,
"I keep askin' meself, where the 'eck are we 'eadin',
"I used to 'ave a 'ome once ya' know," he muttered to his dog,
The teas near all gone, no sugar left and the flours gone bad, O' well,
"Anyway mate lets eat, drink and enjoy what we 'ave left."
March 15, 2000
And I miss me billy tea,
I miss the bush, I miss the scrub,
And I miss just bein' free.
For quite a' many a' year,
And I think about me' mates back then,
And, of the pubs we shared a beer.
We'd talk of days gone by,
But most me mates are dead and gone,
It brings a tear to me eye.
How many times we drunk that brew,
And cook up lumps of damper,
To enhance our pot of stew.
All tossed into a pot,
With billy tea and damper,
We'd eat the flamin' lot.
But!
It's full of sticks and stuff,
And ya' have to jiggle it in a cup,
And the taste, is bloody rough.
They have the nerve to call it bread,
They cook it quick and wrap if fast,
It dam near spins ya' head.
It's the stuff, ya' insides need,
But give me good old damper,
'Cos now that's a proper feed.
Those days out on the track,
When a man would toil from dawn till dusk,
Just to earn a flamin' zak.
To go back to those old days,
When billy tea and damper,
Was all a man would crave.
When I was young and I was silly;
Back in those years, of days gone bye,
When things were different and so was I.
Livin' in the bush and keepin' to meself,
With the birds and animals, what flamin wealth;
Down to the creek to get me billy full,
Then up again to boil it, I do recall.
A platypus and its young would often come.
To look at me as I took me fill,
And I'd look back and wonder 'bout their bill.
I'd dig into the bank and find some worms,
And feed them and watch, and look and learn.
And then sometimes they come right up to me,
On to the bank, a sight to see.
And make up words that sound the same and rhyme;
And dream, yes dream of all those things I'd like to do,
If only I was big and strong like you.
There I was, just me, just lookin' into space,
Wonderin' if I was gunna' win, or was even in the race;
The race to be a man and grow up tall,
Or even if somebody cared, or gave a dam at all.
Being calm, not carin', not lookin' for a blue;
Stayin' out of trouble, keepin' to meself,
In the bush here livin' with me wealth.
I'm richer than a man could ever be;
Livin' 'mongst the bushes and the trees,
And havin' not a care each night and day;
Livin' in this place I'm gunna stay.
With the moon behind that old big tree, It sure looked an awesome sight.
Then we'd planned to head for Christopher, early that next day,
To have a look at some new ground, to see, if the gold would pay.
Sitting by her camp fire, pokin' sticks and dried leaves in.
She gave a grunt, as reply, when I said to her G'day,
I said to her, " Where's Snowy", she said, "The cops took 'im away."
And there ended up a spearin', and two Wongi's died that night.
"So the cops they come a got 'im" the old gin began to wail,
They took 'im down to La-ba-tin, and stuck 'im inta' jail."
So I said, "We'd better go and get 'im, come'on old girl lets go."
From here back there to Laverton, was about eight hundred K's,
So we'd better leave here straight away, to get there by next day.
She kept mumblin 'bout it being dark, and was scared that she would die.
When daylight come she shut her trap, then we stopped to have a feed,
Then we headed into Laverton, to see if Snowy could be freed.
Then I went and saw the elders, to see where Snowy could be found.
They said the coppers had him, all locked up nice and tight,
For killin' those two Wongi's, and for startin' up a fight.
The cops said Snowy was a murderin' black, and now he had to pay.
Now Snowy had to pay the price, for breaking white-mans law,
'Cos he only knew the black-mans way, not what the white-men had in store.
The coppers tried to shut him up, but they couldn't do a thing.
'Cos the elders they had sung him, for the killin's he had done,
So, this was his final walkabout, 'cos Snowy's life was run.
It makes ya' lose, ya' dreamtime culture, that's what the elders say.
But Snowy wouldn't listen, nor did the ones that died,
All that's left is emptiness, and gins to wail and cry,
He knew his life was over, from the pointing of the bone.
They took him to the nursin' post, with Jenny by his side,
He held her hand and smiled, and that's where Snowy died.
So I headed back to white-mans land, to leave the dreamtime far behind.
But I some-times get this feelin', every now and then,
That Snowy's standin' next to me, my old black fella friend.
He'd been trappin' dogs for years.
I met him one day, whilst headin' bush,
Not very far from here.
Or, pretty close to that.
And, when I seen him sittin' there,
I stopped to have a chat.
And, was cookin' up a feed.
So he asked me if I'd join him,
And I said I would indeed.
And what, I was gunna' do.
I said that I, worked on the fence,
And was goin' to Yalgoo.
I said, I hadn't been.
He said that there, was little there,
Really nothin' to be seen.
Old Bernie said to me.
And then he cleared his throat and said,
"It was nineteen fifty-three."
That were knockin' off the sheep.
And, there was a ten bob bounty,
That's 'ow I earn't me keep."
And, at ten bloody bob a pair.
And, at that rate of trappin' 'em,
I'd soon, be a millionaire."
That why I'm still out 'ere.
Trappin' dogs, and savin' stock,
As I 'ave done for years.:
"Tell me what of you.
And when you get to old Yalgoo,
What are ya gunna' do."
I said, "On the vermin barrier fence".
Then Bernie said, "Beware of Norm,
That bloke, 'e's got no bloody sense."
To be relied on in the scrub.
And 'e's on the nose, 'e pongs a bit,
Like the long drop in a pub."
And the blacks there, they are clean.
And a women there, carves emu eggs,
And sends 'em to the Queen."
I think," Old Bernie said.
"She was still there, a few years ago,
But, maybe now she's dead."
'Cos, they're a real decent mob.
They'd take ya' in, if you was crook,
And share their last two bob."
When I was down and out.
They are the salt, of this good earth,
Of that you'll have no doubt."
It's a thing ya' can't describe.
'Cos, they treat ya' like their family,
And as a member of their tribe."
That old dogga', him and me.
But I had to leave, get on me way,
And that made me sad ya see.
Of life, and this great land.
But now his life was nearly run,
And he has no time at hand.
Old Bernie comes to mind.
And, the day I stopped and met him,
And to me, he was so kind.
In the things I do and say.
And how to treat my fellow man,
And treasure, life in every way.
And when life it gets me down.
I remember those words old Bernie said,
A dogga', of great renown.
Old Harold said to me,
As I sunk a red, then the black,
To bring me break, to ninety-three.
Just to watch you hit that ball,
And it gives a man, a bit of joy,
To watch that black ball fall."
When, first I got the call,
To play snooker down in Flinders Lane,
At Lindrum's billiard hall.
To escape the pouring rain.
And into Lindrums billiard hall,
In the bowels of Flinders lane,
So, I had a look around,
And it was dark and dimly lit,
That place below the ground.
With felt as green as trees,
And there was a light, above each one,
So the players they could see.
Majestically and grand,
Of Walter Lindrum standing there,
With cue stick in his hand.
Was bent and old and grey,
And I asked him if, that was him,
In his younger days.
But I knew him pretty well,
Just sit down here, and listen to,
The story's I have to tell."
When him and Walter played that game,
And when Walter made his magic break,
That bought him all that fame.
"And by gees it made me proud,
And every where that Walter played,
I was always in that crowd."
And with sadness Harold said,
"It doesn't mean much anymore,
Now that Walters dead."
And with a grin old Harold spoke,
"And if ya' like, I'll teach ya' how,
To play billiards like that bloke."
But I still recall that day,
When Harold took me to his heart,
And taught me how to play.
But I knew him o' so well,
From all the words that Harold spoke,
And all the yarns he'd tell.
When he played that famous game,
When he took 'em on and beat them all,
And brung himself to fame.
A yarn from years ago,
About a place, past never-never
Where nothing ever grows.
And the sun shines every-day,
And the ground it gets so flamin' hot
It scares every-thing away.
Or a bird flies over head,
And the airs so thick it's hard to breathe
And every-thing is dead.
Only rock and broken ground,
And the hills reflect that flaming heat,
And you never hear a sound.
To that fella' standing there,
He just nodded once and drank his beer
As if, he couldn't care.
That blows from north to south,
It burns ya' soul and melts ya' heart
And takes' the moisture from ya' mouth.
"There's no place on earth like that",
Then he said the sun had fried me brains
And I shoulda' wore a hat.
And he just didn't understand,
The heart-break and the helplessness
When we first came to this land.
"It's a place you couldn't roam
It's way out back of never-never
Where the devil calls his home."
It's Jinghi land they say,
And if a black should wander there
His spirit fades away.
In search of riches there,
They came by horse and came on foot
Without a flamin' care.
Pumped water from afar,
They dug their holes into that earth
With pick and iron bar.
It showed in every dish,
So they toiled, from dawn till dusk
To, fulfil their every wish.
Their water dried up quick,
And they never had no medicine,
To help repair the sick.
As the sick began to die,
And all the shacks and shanties too,
Just melted from the sky.
To greener places they could find,
And the sun it bleached the bones of those,
The others left behind.
The wind then filled them in,
It was as if, they never was,
And they never did begin.
As they turned themselves to rust,
And the bits of wood just rotted out,
And slowly turned to dust.
It's the same as yesterday,
And the devil grins and smiles about,
How he sent them all away
That place where no one goes,
That land way back of never-never
Where you'd never see a crow.
And shook his flamin' head
He gave a grunt and walked away
And never heard a word I said.
His old dog Blue, pricked up his ears to listen.
"You know me old mate," he says to his dog,
"All these years we're been trampin', and there's still sumthin' missin'."
We'll light a fire, cook some tucker and 'ave a rest.
I must be gettin' old, me legs are playin' up from all this walkin,
It's been a long day and I really don't feel the flamin' best."
And why do we walk all these miles, 'ere mate 'ave a bone,
All this walkin', gettin' wet and cold and sometimes freezin',
Getting' cooked by the sun, and still we 'aven't found our 'ome."
"But that's so long ago, I can't remember where it was right now.
All that fightin' and arguin', women, she sent me to the grog,
So I got out, I left and started walkin' best I could, any 'ow-
We'll 'ave to find a town soon so's we can get some stores.
I can't 'ave you going 'ungry Blue, you're the only mate I've got,
I 'spose we might come across a station 'ouse, or knock on some rich cockie's door."
Then the old man lay down, and closed his eyes and slept.
In death, the old man found his long lost home,
And old Blue he licked his old mates face and wept.