Concrete buildings surround the traveling train,
How it feels that I’m walking, to and from work,
When in the early colonial days: horse carts and walking,
Were the only means of transport for all people.
How the generation and years of Australians,
Change from decade to decade.
There are no convicts,
There are no so called, ”Prisoners”!
There are Governors, playing in the background,
Politicians and professions: in the field of science and law.
There are no men chained! No stones to erect by pure blood hand,
Towards a construction of a mechanized building.
Whether it be tribal,
Whether it be country style,
Whether it be city life,
All have changed for better living standards.
Think of us in being in a lucky world,
And we do things that we are told.
Until the day of youth changes to old,
Crying aloud to the person, who is sold.
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