by Lionel Fogarty
An' we aborigines in humanity.
The pulses of the red sun give a beat in aboriginal people.
The kissing of winds to trees are the love between aborigines.
Even the water we drink is the pure tears aboriginals share.
We wisely in our humanised aboriginal homes are united under all one colour.
The aboriginal is the bread of man's rich land.
We are the rocks of ages and purpling skies.
Look at every scenery in bush you will see an aboriginal face, body and spirit.
The aboriginal is not owned by any human being on earth.
Our presence is the flesh of fresh new worlds.
We are music that floats into a wonderful note to all ears.
An aboriginal is nature's soil, you pick it up, hold it in your hand and
you will feel our growth in the ground.
We are the gods of man in this land but then we are not humans.
Yet we are part of your kind now hey.
The earth above is our spirituals.
And now if you speak our tongue, don't mean you are native.
The sea, hills and lakes are in our hearts and minds.
The universe is belonga to dem big spirit creator.
Oh, now man you go out there to find out more of us, who down here.
Well listen to that fish talk and you will know we ate it the other day.
And if you talk to a bird of paradise you find they are people, same with
all creatures here, we aboriginals come from them.
If you feel the heat of the sun, you feel us.
If you see and feel the light of the darkness then you have just touched an aborigine.
Last updated January 14, 2019