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The Rock-itt : April 2010
A SUMMER PLACE It's cold, I'm wet, I'm all alone I'm a stranger in my own home Don't want to talk or relate I'm just somebody else's mistake We went off to find a war We didn't even know what for With the world just too demanding There's no time for peace and understanding Sunshine on the wall There's no one there at all I waited here on the track We went but never did come back Sunshine on my face Warms our souls, the human race For all we know this could be Heaven Or just a summer place. Annie's all grown up now She's leaving on the bus downtown With a sparkle tear drop in her eye I'm too weak to say goodbye No, I'm no good to anyone Least of all to me We lost our innocence and time And then we went and blew our minds It's cold, I'm wet, and I'm all alone Pat Frisina STAND PROUD From golden shore beaches to the drought riddled west "Beautiful One Day, Perfect The Next". All over the world our country is well known I speak of Australia, I'm so proud of my home. You'll often hear old diggers tell tales past gone Of our history, our heroes, our Australian sons And in respect to those diggers, 'You are legends' to me You have made this a great country and for all it can be. Yes, I am Australian and stand proud to be one For my country is so grand and second to none. So for all who read this, think of the diggers since gone Tell your children our history, and let their memories live on. Melanie Froud © 2007 RETROSPECTIVE EXHIBITION 1939-1945 It's not much fun out in the sun with a gun joined to this Corps or that. But with nowt up the spout finding out what death's all about. It's not much fun in a cellar with a feller who's putrid and smelly. You'll empty your belly finding out what death's all about. It's not much fun in the rubble in trouble shitting blood with a gut full of lead. You'll be dead 'n' found out what deaths all about. It's not much fun kicking a head in when all you will tread in is bone marrow. And slivers of people you'll know'll find out what death's all about. It's not much fun wearing ear muffs on lug 'oles to soften the sound waves of screaming from those finding out what death's all about. It's not much fun with oil in your lung floating frozen and frying in tall waves of flare finding out what death's all about. It's not much fun in a jungle with one hell of a flux in the wet and the sweat. And the spirochetes rustle finding out what death's all about. It's not much fun pushing paper a ball's up but greater the boredom. But better the whoredom counting out what death's all about. It's not much fun returning to living and finding it's different from what you believed you'd find out that it's dead all about. It's not much fun to be dead at the end from desperately plucking at straws for a living 'cos you'd never found out if life's all about. Pam Lazenby