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curse ov dialect – identity lyrics


[verse 1: volk makedonski]
standing on the drum ruppa pum pum
tapan in the centre of the circle cycles of tradition
unified through dance expanded expanse
expensive tension comprehend apprehension
governments attention focus on our regional roots
legion of doom white australia policy
where’s australia’s apology? fallacy monopoly
trilogy of k!lling sprees lets revise review
renew relevant pamphlet construed
construct i’m stuck in a political rut
eyes shut they pr-nounce my name and announce
my shame as they bounce the blame across the racist plains
afraid of my un-edited epic ethnic mountain frame
demanding that they hear it the language of the spirits standing in the corridor worried for my sorry sore
sad story carried forth you’re a wog
we don’t want your family or you one dimensional aussies
i’m more aussie than you!!

[verse 2: august 2nd ]
excuse me if offended
my ident-ty is amended
question where i’m from
ask the offspring of poms
not settler of convict
everyone is ethnic
couldn’t rid the accent
my parents are migrants
trapped in a cultural clash
curry and rice not bangers and mash
don’t care about opinions
i’m proudly anglo-indian
shun ancestry no love lost
chameleons absorbed by southern cross
shun ancestry no love lost
chameleons absorbed by southern cross
shun ancestry no love lost
chameleons absorbed by southern cross

[verse 3: raceless]
red necks judge from popping from a hole
appearance and colour is dna and soul
racist idiots charge!
’cause they pretend the colonial is past
refugees have love for where they’re landing
served english with anglo-saxon planning
accents “you fail to name check
aussie is undefined as a concept”
i descend from the maltese, archipelago
anglais, francais and i don’t know
this mixed tongue from nature to nurture
west suburban with the inner city fervour
a true country voice to a city voice differs
a global commonality that glitters
critters with those att-tudes attached
so what the h-ll are you?
’cause on vacation i’m australian in bathers
while yuppies belittle our balinese neighbours

[verse 4: atarungi]
so it draws us ever upward falling down again
rest our puppets over clouds t-tled gods and supermen
surrept-tious superst-tion and belief
seats a cradle of mortal thought, shrouded in grief and stain
call out my name in the void as it ever was
serenely clear
too much focus on the surface
to be amongst the depth as we whisper in your ear
are you still watching now as we activate a vision
a secret lore historically imploring more
explorers to discover their total self (hmmmmm)
a bold attempt prolong mistrust
no curse or cuss shatter the old and bring it back
to the living manifest with a smile…