Louis Williamson: The Stolen Generation

Original lyrics honour Kinchela Boys.

Read Louis’s lyrics below:
 
Stolen Generations
Yeah they were not referred by their name just by their number
And there they felt pain every day that they were put under
The stress, Every night you sleep free peacefully in your slumber
They were lonely every night listening to thunder
And You’d thought being put on a reserve was hard enough
And Then their taken and put into institutions and its tough
You stand on the land of the beautiful people
And you take them from it and you call it legal
All from a place where they were living happily
Removed from a place of love – yeah it’s called family
And in a state a vanity, without any clarity, honestly the worst policy caused generations of agony
Forced to white academy, stripped of everything yeah everything their Aboriginality
Name gone through the tears
Brainwashed through the years
The same pain put on peers
And you wonder why on Australia Day there are no cheers
Because on that day all it brought was diseases and measles
The things that whites did – man I call it pure evil
Because underneath the skin we are all the same people
All the same bones, blood and feelings that become so feeble 
We got a past and a culture that rich and sad we got ancient language on ancient land
We gotta past and a culture that’s rich and sad
we got ancient language on ancient land
this track we remember the kids that were stolen
So we can give back the time and the love that we owe em
Uncle Richard, he was 9 turning 10 when taken
Hurting then happens again when his brothers the same
 
Left his mother vacant
And police lied straight to her a face
About their reason of placement
The government stole him, controlled him
A Gumbaynggirr Dunghutti man, it told him
His parents didn’t care, nor did any of peers
And it hurt him right then and there
At this home setting where there
No freedom no nothing, but beatings
And bleedings and demons disguised as workers
Did Not offer him the love that he needed indeed or deserved
It’s a fact he was attacked for sure
And maybe worse than that he wasn’t black no more
Instead he was abused,
He was use to the punishment
Getting nothing in return but food and his nourishment
And suffering and to believe to the tree he was chained
And was beaten with pain and weakened with rape
In the winter thrown in the pool not for laps
With the shivers he was slapped
What kinda cruelty is that
His time there was spent, he was moved still without consent but at least he had a place where he could rest his head and be black without torment, by that it’s meant there was nothing physical still insults were said. 
Institutions he was moved to documents were misconscrewded
there were places he was taken like the royal-stone on the Glebe Point Road, Indigenous dislocation was still on show,
Missing parents and their appearance,
Couldn’t face it, the heartbreak was still ongoing
Still brought an abundance of fear out the soul
Now I know
All the things that makes me tear,
Was that i used to live down the road
Woah 
 
We got a past and a culture that rich and sad
we got ancient language on ancient land
Taken were children now its affecting millions
Resurrecting and building these relations we ruined
Hopefully with these words that I’ve spoken, with kindness interwoven we can give back the time and the love that we owe em 
Raised in the country then released in the city
little pity when they didn’t make sure he could read and write
had to learn transport system just to survive
In this sick sick Sydney he wasn’t used to the huddle
For him and Uncle Widdy was kept in a bubble
left them with struggle
cornered with no country left to him and his brothers
Brought up in the home with his brothers all scattered and shuffled
Torn Up with the trauma seen dazed and puzzled
sorta hungry for help with his pains he juggles
Others From around the home with no role models
They bottled their colours and their battles with drugs in the bottles
Set for free
Left with no identity
Secondly
Still no remedies
Were set for he
Brought up with race of the enemies
separately
Sectioned off caused a case of dependency
No mistake was his race treated secondly
And his legacy will live on endlessly
Coz we won’t forget the scene not for any means
To spread awareness for his family and parents
Treated so badly by the cowards in power who were never outed
But that’s life
Well it was when you’re too white for the black kids and too black for the white
Yet for the way he was raised and trained to be a slave there was no love to be displayed
 
And his kids started off the same
It’s a cycle its vicious cycle and would have lasted and continued the looper
Till he opened up the past to unlock the future
You are standing on their land need to understand
We got a past and a culture that rich and sad we got ancient language on ancient land
We gotta past and a culture rich and sad
we got ancient language on ancient land
Taken were children now its affecting millions
Resurrecting and building these relations we ruined
Hopefully with these words that i’ve spoken, with kindness interwoven we can give back the time and the love that we owe em 
To his grandma they called her a dumb black bitch, But the fact is
She spoke a whole of 11 different languages – they’ll never understand what the damage is
So yeah when i talk about this i wipe the wet from my face and Cheeks coz it’s bleak to think about all the segregation
How close to wiped out was this perfect nation
Stealing there lore and forcing a different faith and
And demonstrated completed brutality like we’re nothing but cavemen And if there’s one dream i’m gonna keep on chasing
It’s the dream that we can be one nation
And live happily a dream of integration
Coz like the KBH Boys opened up in the place
To place
The pavement for us to connect and pay respect this country’s past days
And now Uncle Richard uses art to express – it’s amazing
So lift your hand and wave and
Make some noise
Please use your voice
Please respect and rejoice
For the Kinchela Boys
 
Listen to the reading here