From Red Dirt to Reclaiming Rights

. On the red dirt roads, sun sinks down low.

Where the wildflowers laugh and the cold winds blow. From the red

dirt roads to the coastal sand. From the bush to the cities, hand in hand.

We've toiled in the sun, we've walked the line. While suits in

Canberra trade their ties for wine. And they talk big dreams, but how can

it be? Forget the elders, forget you and me. But the pub

lights hum and the word gets loud. Something's stirring in the Aussie crowd.

We're not left, we're not right. We're just fed up, we're awake tonight.