Bud Petal blogs here, and is also on facebook, twitter, vimeo, and instagram.


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The Longing is for the Timor Sea

Hanging on a limb that may be sawed off at any time
Laying on the deck, the knighthead in plain sight

Asylum sought, sea traversed, there is now none to apportion abuse

No documents, not even a davit
Oh, officer, we need a mainstay

“Don’t sweat it, man,” twangs the officer,
“I’ve been here before, follow me to Woomera,
Where you may cook pebbles as far as I’m concerned

Asylum sought, sea traversed; take now your place in the queue

No documents, not even a davit
Your claims better pass muster”

Oh, please don’t leave us here in this void
Between Australia and the back of beyond
For our longing is for the Timor Sea
But the pain is from here

Hanging on his every word: 'There ain’t no black in the Union Jack'
Laying in a shack, the palisade in plain sight

Asylum sought, but now in place of strife, we are at daggers drawn

No documents, not even tomorrow
Oh, officer, we need a mainstay

“Don’t sweat it, man,” twangs the officer,
“These activists can bend the ear of the government,
Where they may shout ‘Dark deeds in a sunny land!’

Asylum sought, but now in place of strife, watch our wharves pushed out onto the seas

No documents, not even tomorrow, your comrades better take wing”

Oh, please don’t leave us here in this void
Between Australia and the back of beyond
For our longing is for the Timor Sea
But the pain is from here

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