BACK TO THE START

By Bill Dahlheimer



Photo sourced here



 

Sixty nine Christmases, I’ve seen go by.

Oh, how those years have seemed to fly!

Primary school, Secondary and Correspondence helped me stand tall,

Then shearing and contracting; working at all.

 

Born on the land, my life I would spend,

until the day came when the Bank said they’d lend!

The farm and community; they were my whole life,

And then I met this fine girl, and now she’s my wife.

 

Photo sourced here

For four years I chaired the school P & C board;

our children with apprenticeships was my reward.

The tennis club, bus runs and for the Hall;

We served on committees for them all. 



Our community and local industry; our time we did lend,

Then we moved to our new farm and we started again.

Our farm we selected twenty seven years ago;

A fertile, quiet place where Cobb and his coaches did go,

on the Condamine River where mostly good waters flow

 

 

Pork and beef production; they were our ‘call’,

Three times Champion at the Australia Pork Fair

These wins made us feel that we had done it all.

And our beautiful Brahmans they too shone through

all over Australia and New Caledonia too!

 

The demand for our breeders it was so strong…

But now it’s all gone …. we know what went wrong.

our bacon you see; it now comes from abroad,

And so pig producers have gone in great hoard.

 

And the live cattle exports, as we all know

Were shut down by a man we all know as Joe!

He and his cronies insulted our trading mate,

So they in their turn simply closed the import gate.

 

And I wonder how cruelly those unsold cattle did die,

In the drought that followed, beneath the clear sky.

And the people who watched their whole herd perish,

They took their lives too that they did once cherish.

Tangalooma Brahman Stud; photo sourced here 

Now at the end of our toils we hope in our twilight years,

for some reward for all of that blood, sweat and tears.

But when a buyer he did finally come,

One look to our south and he sure did a run!

 

The Mine, to our south means our farm just won’t sell.

We ask for fair compensation; a fair swing of the bell?

But their answer seems to tell us, “go to bloody hell!”

We are just ‘whingers’, but I don’t think that’s right,

They aren’t the ones, who lie awake at night,

And pray to the Lord, “don’t let That Dog bite!”

 

They send in some cleaners to wipe down our wall,

And a filter for drinking, they also install,

While sadly our bank balance continues to fall.

Very soon now, there will be none left at all!

For banks, they won’t lend on a farm you can’t sell,

I can hear echoes; they are starting to yell.



 

Now the company could buy us if they had the will,

They’ve got country that’s surplus just over the hill.

It’s not that this farm will just disappear;

When the mining is finished it still will be here.

Kogan Creek power station Photo sourced here

 You ask me how I feel, my very good friend.

When I think of my wife who I have condemned?

For Lynn, too, waits for the banker to knock.

And the two of us may soon walk away from our block

….with nothing to show but hard work and our age.

We worked for retirement; not for this rage!

Now we both know how the other does feel,

And we know in our hearts we have got a raw deal.

 

We worked ninety-five hours each week,

So at the end of our labours, some pleasure we seek.

Now we hold each other so that black dog won’t come;

And we pray that tomorrow a miracle is done;

That we will have laughter, good cheer and great fun;

Because without one, we will be out in the street,

Among many, like us we are sure we will meet.

 

                                  The bureaucrats you see, they don’t understand.

They think you must be indigenous to have love for the land.

Our forefathers who lie in Flanders Field,

or who fought in trenches on Gallipoli’s steep hills

Turn in their graves at the ‘democracy’ instilled.

 

Their descendants they thought would have honey and milk;

Their beds; they would be sheeted in silk!

They never allowed for the power of the dollar to come,

And that the morality they fought for would be given the bum.

 

Now the directors of companies should take a close look

at the courage and commitment that these diggers took.

Then maybe just maybe, they could open their heart?

Because we are too old to go back to the start!