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can see the Southern Cross tonight
While here below, bathed in it's light
The Dreamtime land safe, snug and tight is sleeping
Wrapped in complacency and contentedness
No discordant sounds disturb our rest
While the gentle souls we've dispossesed are weeping

We took it all by the gun and the sword
By the right of our race and in the name of our God
Though as outcasts ourselves, transported, condemned
None knew better than we the injustice of men

We took it all in our hunger and need
Enslaved by our past and consumed by our greed
And left them to beg for the scraps at our door
While we called them drunkards and wasters and whores
They've been drowning, drowning in their tears
For the last two hundread years

From England's New Jerusalem
To the Dreamtime land the tall ships came
With human cattle in convict chains to bind them
In the grim fight just to stay alive
Dreams must struggle to survive
Few could see the glitt'ring prize before them

We had it all in the palm of our hand
A new hope, a new dream, a new life, a new land
One last chance to break from the chains of the past
To build something of value, build something to last

This ancient land was a vast empty page
Waiting for the great writers of a brand new age
The future was ours to protect or profane
A paradise lost, a paradise gained
Now tell me, is paradise here,
After two hundred years?

So now, beneath the Southern Cross
It's time to tally up the cost
Of what we've gained and what we've lost forever
Though much has gone we can't replace
Those of us who love this place
Together now, must turn and face the future

So here's to us all, we're frail humankind
Who wander through life mostly helpless and blind
To our courage and cowardice, our humor and pain
Our hundred steps forward, ninety-nine back again

Yes here's to us all, the wise and the fools
The indifferent, the caring, the kind and the cruel
As we march to the beat of an uncertain drum
Stumbling towards what we may yet become
Towards the brave new frontiers,
Of the next two hundred years
can see the Southern Cross tonight   While here below, bathed in it's light   The Dreamtime land safe, snug and tight is sleeping   Wrapped in complacency and contentedness   No discordant sounds disturb our rest   While the gentle souls we've dispossesed are weeping      We took it all by the gun and the sword   By the right of our race and in the name of our God   Though as outcasts ourselves, transported, condemned   None knew better than we the injustice of men      We took it all in our hunger and need   Enslaved by our past and consumed by our greed   And left them to beg for the scraps at our door   While we called them drunkards and wasters and whores   They've been drowning, drowning in their tears   For the last two hundread years      From England's New Jerusalem   To the Dreamtime land the tall ships came   With human cattle in convict chains to bind them   In the grim fight just to stay alive   Dreams must struggle to survive   Few could see the glitt'ring prize before them      We had it all in the palm of our hand   A new hope, a new dream, a new life, a new land   One last chance to break from the chains of the past   To build something of value, build something to last      This ancient land was a vast empty page   Waiting for the great writers of a brand new age   The future was ours to protect or profane   A paradise lost, a paradise gained   Now tell me, is paradise here,   After two hundred years?      So now, beneath the Southern Cross   It's time to tally up the cost   Of what we've gained and what we've lost forever   Though much has gone we can't replace   Those of us who love this place   Together now, must turn and face the future      So here's to us all, we're frail humankind   Who wander through life mostly helpless and blind   To our courage and cowardice, our humor and pain   Our hundred steps forward, ninety-nine back again      Yes here's to us all, the wise and the fools   The indifferent, the caring, the kind and the cruel   As we march to the beat of an uncertain drum   Stumbling towards what we may yet become   Towards the brave new frontiers,   Of the next two hundred years
 
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