THE WEIR









1. The Weir

Written by Michael Waugh

I bought a bottle of Creaming Soda

From a woman who called me ‘love’

I dropped the change into a guide dog box

by a tray of custard tarts

And the pies from the Maffra bakery

Are famous all over the world

There’s a sign that says so on the drinks fridge

Near the picture of a Big M girl


We used to drive down to the weir

Throwing tennis balls in for the dogs to retrieve

While an old man sitting on a camp chair’s fishing

Down at the weir wall


There’s a bottle of Brandovino

Broken by the spirit of last night’s fire

There’s a speed boat screaming around Glenmaggie

Dragging kids on a tractor tyre

There’s a flyblown roo on the roadside

There’s a cross and a plastic rose

There’s a sign that says ‘No Shooting’

Riddled with bullet holes


We used to drive down to the weir

Throwing tennis balls in for the dogs to retrieve

While an old man sitting on a camp chair’s fishing

Down at the weir wall


Remember that awful drought

When the weir dried up and we took the Fairlane out

Drove across the dried up mud

To the rotten farm house that stood there before the flood

And I wonder how many summers I’d swam

Over that roof not knowing what lies underneath

I wonder how many people there’ll be skimming rocks over ghosts

At the places that I used to be


All the rivers run here

Back to the weir


An old man pulls a fishing line in

To see what he hasn’t caught

A teenager checks out the girls in the water

Pulling bull-ants from his football shorts

I come here when it’s late in the summer and I can’t make sense of it all

I still bring a pie from the bakery

‘cause they’re the bloody pies in the world


We used to drive down to the weir

Throwing tennis balls in for the dogs to retrieve

We used to dive into the weir

Down at the weir wall

Down at the weir


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2. Big Things

Written by Michael Waugh

There was a big sky rocket at the Lion’s park

I could see the whole town through the bars at the top

And I counted from 10 to “blast-off”

But I knew that we’d never leave the tan bark

We didn’t have holidays growing up

We were always milking and always broke

And all mum wanted was a suntan

She talked dad into driving up to Queensland


I met my country from the back of a car

Outside of Stawell saw a big koala

Flying up the Newell to the big guitar


I come from a little place but I’ve seen a lot of big things


If you want a family fight here’s a recipe:

Pack three of us boys in a cramped back seat

And drive for a day to Sydney

Get mum to read a map. Get dad to tow a van through the city

Every road leads to the Harbour bridge

Every bugger’s in the lane you want to merge in

So many one way streets in this damn town

And you can’t hang a U-ie with a caravan


I met my country in the back of a car

Saw a big pineapple, a big banana

So much fruit made of fibreglass


I come from a little place but I’ve seen a lot of big things


We filled a camera roll at the picnic spots up and down the coast

So many family pics standing awkwardly posed

In front of big things


When we get back home the cows are waiting for dad

Mum’s sunburn faded and she never tanned

I went back to the rocket park

And I took another look at my town from the top


I saw dad’s overalls on the laundry floor

Blackened and singed from an SES call

I saw mum in her gumboots in the living room

Trying to sweep out the river with a K-mart broom

I’ve seen a kitchen bench full of casserole dishes

That the neighbours brought when my mum got sick

And I’ve seen a big fire, I’ve seen a big flood I’ve seen a little town with a great big heart

And I know that this rocket won’t ever launch

But there are big things here without flying up North


I come from a little place but I’ve seen a lot of big things


I come from a little place but I’ve seen a lot of big things From a big sky rocket at the Lion’s park


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3. This Song Reminds Me

Written by Michael Waugh

This song reminds me of being young and partying

Fitting in stretch denim jeans

Feeling like I could say almost anything to you


This song reminds me of sleeping bags in living rooms

Whispers after ‘lights out boys’

Trying not to laugh too loud or make your folks annoyed


I couldn’t sing you all the words

Or name the band who sang that tune

These are things that you forget

But this song remembers


This song was playing when you and I got really pissed

Took my dad’s quad bike out

Crashed it in an irrigation ditch


We were singing this song camping on Macalister’s banks

Drunk again and trying to pitch a tent

Daring you to pee on that electric fence


I couldn’t sing you all the words

Or name the band who sang that tune

These are things that you forget

But this song remembers


Paul Kelly, Daddy Cool, Midnight Oil, Aussie Crawl, Weddings and Parties

Baby Animals, Hoodoo Gurus, Nick Cave & The Birthday Party

Barnsey and Diesel, Accadacca, Chisel, Braithwaite, Farnham – These songs know


This came on the radio

I was driving home from work

Sang all the lyrics wrong

Didn’t we used to know that song?


In between the traffic jams and the life I’ve planned

I haven’t thought of you in a while

This is the soundtrack to where I’ve been

I turn it up and I tune back in


To Paul Kelly, Daddy Cool, Midnight Oil, Aussie Crawl, Weddings and Parties

Baby Animals, Hoodoo Gurus, Nick Cave & The Birthday Party

Barnsey and Diesel, Accadacca, Chisel, Braithwaite, Farnham, Mental as Anything

The Saints and The Church and Goanna and Redgum,

Hunters and Collectors and (these songs know)

Spiderbait, Magic Dirt (these songs know)

Powderfinger, Men at Work (these songs know)

Divinyls, Angels, INXS, You Am I, Screaming Jets, Deborah Conway, Yothu Yindhi


These songs remind me of being young and partying.


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4. Mary Lou

Written by Michael Waugh

Some days when I got up, while everyone was sleeping

I’d go creeping down the hallway and turn on our TV

I’d dance around to Humphrey - though he didn’t have a voice

And he didn’t wear pants; He was my hero as a boy

Without my brothers in the way Laughing and dancing and playing


Some days after brekky we’d go down to Charlie’s house

And while our mums were drinking coffee we’d play records in the lounge

We’d dance to Sergeant Pepper’s and we’d dance to Patsy Biscoe

And we’d dance around to Abba in our little pre-school disco

One day we both looked up and saw

Charlie’s father standing in the door


‘Hello, Mary Lou. What you dancing ‘round in there for?

Don’t you even care what people think about you, Mary Lou?

Boys don’t dance around the way that you do, Mary Lou.’


I stopped banging on the heater I was using as a keyboard

And I looked at him confused and I said ‘My name is Michael’

Charlie took the needle, put a scratch through ‘Dancing Queen’

Took it off the player and put it in a plastic sleeve

I saw my dad come walking down the hall

Embarrassed that he’d see me when the other man called:


‘Hello, Mary Lou. What you dancing ‘round in there for?

Don’t you even care what people think about you, Mary Lou?

Boys don’t dance around the way that you do, Mary Lou.’


Remember how you used to dance?

Remember that old cubby house?

Remember how you’d sing out loud?

Remember how you’d laugh ‘til you were all laughed out?

Remember how they shut you down?

Shut you down


Some days when I get up while everyone is sleeping

I lock the bathroom door, so no one else can see

And I dance around the shower, I sing into my shampoo

And I don’t look very graceful but I don’t think that I have to

Don’t let them take your inner joy

Dance around like Humphrey little boy


‘Hello, Mary Lou. What you dancing ‘round in there for?

Dance like you don’t care what people think about you, Mary Lou!

Everyone should dance around the way that you do, Mary Lou.


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5. Be There

Written by Michael Waugh

​

When I get the call at 2am

I put on my t-shirt inside out when I get out of bed

Just to be there

And I look for the car keys

On the floor somewhere under my undies

Trying to make sense of the dark and the call and the dirty laundry

Just to be there


I stumble to the car

Just to get to where you are

There’ll be hours on the drive to rehearse the things I’ll say

To make it better

When I’ve driven all the distance away


You should know

That you’re not in this alone

I’m gonna have your back

Wherever you go

If it gets cold

You know, a little rain comes to us all

But I’m gonna have your back

Wherever you go

I’m gonna have your back wherever you go


With a servo coffee

And a packet of shapes to fuel me

While a song from the 80s playing on the radio reminds me

That I’ve got to be there

And the red tail lights

Lead me down the road

There’s a long white line ahead screaming in Morse code

‘You’ve got to be there’


And I’m driving in my car

Just to get to where you are

There’ll be hours on the drive to rehearse the things I’ll say

To make it better

When I’ve driven all the distance away


You should know

That you’re not in this alone

I’m gonna have your back

Wherever you go

If it gets cold

You know, a little rain comes to us all

But I’m gonna have your back

Wherever you go

(Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na)

I’m gonna have your back wherever you go


When the road is long

When your heart is heavy

When you’re looking for a place to take a rest but you can’t see any

I’ll be there


You should know

That you’re not in this alone

I’m gonna have your back

Wherever you go

If it gets cold

You know, a little rain comes to us all

But I’m gonna have your back

Wherever you go

(Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na)

I’m gonna have your back wherever you go


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6. Search Party

Written by Michael Waugh

Circle of camp chairs unfolded ‘round a fire

Half way through an esky and balls deep in a fight

It was one of those conversations that could solve all of the problems of the world


One of the old bucks gets the shits up - storms off into the night

Three stubbies later someone says ‘is he alright?’

You should’ve seen that search party tripping over tent pegs in the dark


Where’s my brother gone?

Where’s my brother gone?

Half blind at the shoreline and calling through the fog

Every floating stick is like a hand up through the mud

Calling ‘Coo-ee! Are you alright?’


Somebody asks, ‘What’s up his arse? Why’d he do a Harold Holt?’

Everybody’s got an opinion about the reason he had to bolt

Someone says it’s politics

Someone thinks it’s all about his kids

Someone says he doesn’t care – let’s just find where he is


Where’s my brother gone?

Where’s my brother gone?

Half blind at the shoreline and calling through the fog

Every floating stick is like a hand up through the mud

Calling ‘Coo-ee! Are you alright?’

‘Coo-ee! Are you alright?’


Somebody lights a dart and strips down to his birthday suit

‘Well, I’m buggered if I’m standing ‘round here’ he says and splashes off into the blue

‘Someone stop him, he’s gone mad

We’re throwing good drunks after bad!

Let’s all just hold vigil here – til morning’


Where’s my brother gone?

Where’s my brother gone?

Half blind at the shoreline and calling through the fog

Every floating stick is like a hand up through the mud

Calling ‘Coo-ee! Are you alright?’

‘Coo-ee! Are you alright?’

‘Coo-ee! Are you alright?’


Around 5.30 someone finds one of old mate’s shoes

30 metres down a path he’s snuggled up in the dunes

He says ‘I just came up here for a piss - decided I might take a rest’


Search party’s over, they’re packing up the ute

Everybody’s silent. Old mate can’t find a shoe

Someone breaks a bottle, drowns the embers of the fire

And they all go driving home to their daughters and their wives and their sons and their lives


Where’s my brother gone?


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7. Down In The Valley

Written by Michael Waugh

When I was at school we took a bus to the town

Deep, deep down in the valley

And we saw how the crane took the coal from the ground

Somewhere deep, deep down


And we saw how the sky grew dirty and black

When we picnicked down by the cooling stack

Hopeful, young and proud

Growing up down in the valley


Where there isn’t much money

And there isn’t much fun

And most don’t stay in the schools that long

But you learn how to fight

And you learn to be strong

And you won’t keep down all the folks

Deep down in the valley


The hardwood trees from the nearby hills

Fell deep, deep down in the valley

They turned ‘em into lumber at the timber mills

Somewhere deep, deep down


And the schoolkids watched on the day they came

How their fathers worked through the screaming blades

And the stacks of the wood

And the hopes of homes they made

Built up down in the valley


Where there isn’t much money

And there isn’t much fun

And most don’t stay in the schools that long

But you learn how to fight

And you learn to be strong

And you won’t keep down all the folks

Deep down in the valley


You can take away the power from Hazelwood

Deep, deep down in the valley

You can cut down the Heyfield mills for good

Somewhere deep, deep down


And a generation of farmer’s children

Can watch their fathers drown in bills

They might be broke

But they’re not broken still

You can’t keep ‘em down in the valley


Where there isn’t much money

And there isn’t much fun

And most don’t stay in the schools that long

But you learn how to fight

And you learn to be strong

And you won’t keep down all the folks

Deep down in the valley

No, you won’t keep down all the folks deep down

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8. Warragul Police

Written by Michael Waugh

He wasn’t always such a tear-away

That little boy on Father’s Day

Brought me scrambled eggs

But the world was sharpening knives for him

Waiting in the high school gym

Scratching words on toilet doors

I think I lost him somewhere ‘round Year 9

Wagging school and getting high


It’s the Warragul police

And they’re here about my son

For a second I was thinking

What’s that little bastard done

It’s not their first time at my door

He’s been wanted by the cops before

It’s the Warragul police

And they’re here about my son


Dropping in down at the skating bowl

Smoking bongs and tagging poles

Bumming smokes at the shopping mall

Dropping eggs from off the overpass

Hoodie worn to hide his face

Jeans worn low to show his ass

In every picture that I’ve got of him

He’s sticking up his middle finger at me

With a stupid cheeky grin


It’s the Warragul police

And they’re here about my son

For a second I was thinking

What’s that little bastard done

It’s not their first time at my door

He’s been wanted by the cops before

It’s the Warragul police

And they’re here about my son


I don’t care what you might think of him

He’s much more bark than bite

He might stress me out and piss me off

But that little mongrel’s mine


Now, I’m all dressing gown and stifling yawns

Three cops standing on my porch

Shadows through the flyscreen door

Said ‘there’s been a real bad accident’

I didn’t hear what they said next

It all turned into scrambled eggs


It’s the Warragul police

And they’re here about my son

And for a second I was thinking

What’s that little bastard done


It’s the Warragul police

And they’re here about my son


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9. Seaspray

Written by Michael Waugh

Boys on the beach are fit and brown

Girls in bikini tops couldn’t care less if I drown

Dancing to the soundtrack from Grease

You’re the one that I want

But you don’t even see me

I’m nothing like Danny and you’re all Sandy


Down the path between the dunes

I’m all mozzie bitten

You are another itch

I’ll try hard not to scratch it

I want to leave my tent behind

Don’t want to hear my family fight

I want to sink beneath the waves at Seaspray


You and your family camp nearby

And I burnt my feet on the hot concrete of the footpath just outside your tent

Playing in the park at night

We outgrew those little swings and slides


Down the path between the dunes

I’m all mozzie bitten

You are another itch

I’ll try hard not to scratch it

I want to leave my tent behind

Don’t want to hear my family fight

I want to sink beneath the waves at Seaspray


Back at school when summer ends

Can’t do my homework with your bathers in my head

Growing up is hard

Summer lovin’ smells like coconut and Aerogard


Down the path between the dunes

I’m all mozzie bitten

You are another itch I’ll try hard not to scratch it

I want to leave my tent behind

Don’t want to hear my family fight

I want to sink beneath the waves at Seaspray


Down the path between the dunes

I’m all mozzie bitten

You are another itch

I’ll try hard not to scratch it

I want to leave my tent behind

I want to go out with the tide

I want to sink beneath the waves at Seaspray


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10. Like I Used To

Written by Michael Waugh

I don't love you like I used to

I don't like it when you talk that much

Through every tv show I like to watch I

don't love you like when I was young

I don't love you like I used to

We used to talk til it was 3am

Now I'm asleep before Neighbours ends

I don't love you like I did back then


I used to love you blindly

But now I see through older eyes

I don't love you like I used to

But I think that we're alright


I don't love you like I used to

I used to fret when you were miles away

I love the empty couch and extra space

Without your coffee cups around the place

I don't love you like

I used to I used to hate it when you'd talk to men

I used to think that you would find in them

Something better than in me


I used to love you madly

Now my love's a bit more sane

I don't love you like I used to

But it's better this way


I don't love you like I used to


I don't love you like I used to

You don't ever have to shave your legs

I love your trackie dacks and morning hair

I love it when you bring me tea in bed

I don't love you like I used to

You held me when my mother almost died

You've seen me when my moods are dark and wild

I got to see you bring into this world our child


I used to love this girl

But now that woman's my best friend

I don't love her like I used to

I love her more than I did then


I don't love her like I used to

I don't love her like I used to

I don’t love her like I used to

I love her more than I did then


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11. 50 Words

Written by Michael Waugh

In 1901 they passed a law

A 50 word dictation test to keep them from our shores

‘Cos we didn’t want illiterates or blacks

And if you only wrote in Mandarin, we’d have to send you back


But it’s all right

If you’re all white

And you can justify your skin in 50 words or less

But there’s a mandatory detention if you fail that spelling test


Australia didn’t federate for peace

The colonies united for a threat they feared North-West

And the lynch mob didn’t fall far from the tree

They just learned different words for “White Australia Policy”


But it’s all right

If you’re all white

And you can justify your skin in 50 words or less

But there’s a mandatory detention if you fail that spelling test


Some campaign for sending back the boats

Some look for solutions based on winning back our votes

So, with irony, let’s sing “Australia Fair –

For those who’ve come across the seas we’ve boundless plains to share”


But it’s all right

If you’re all white

And you can justify your skin in 50 words or less

But there’s a mandatory detention if you fail that spelling test


And I wonder if the Koorie mob discussed

Borderline protection from white boat people like us

And I wonder if they’d choose to send away

Someone who can’t spell “Treaty” for 200 years of shame


And it’s all right

If you’re all white

And if you’re looking for asylum

Well we’ve got a mad house here

But it’s all right

If you’re all white

But let’s not call it racist

Let’s pretend the laws are fair

But history can’t teach us if we don't Advance Australia Fair

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12. Born Here

Written by Michael Waugh

I was born on Macadam Street

Unlucky for some we were number 13

We had pampas grass and a dog named Ben

I’m lucky I was born here


Near the TAB there’s a monument

And the concrete stands for the fallen men

Every ANZAC day we’d get pissed for them

I’m lucky I was born here


I was born here

I was born here

By a lucky twist of fate I got to be born here

And I’m filled with national pride

I’m ‘Aussie as’ til I dinkum die

Like southern cross thongs and French cricket on my lawn

I’m lucky I was born here


I went to a school where they didn’t charge fees

When I split my head they stitched it for free

I watched Countdown Sundays on the ABC

I’m lucky I was born here


I was born here

I was born here

By a lucky twist of fate I got to be born here

And I’m filled with national pride

I’m ‘Aussie as’ til I dinkum die

Like vegemite toast and a hot Christmas morn

I’m lucky I was born here


And I’m grateful to the elders who taught me to see

That white Australia’s got a black history

We’re not all that young

And we’re all not that free

We’re lucky we were born here


I was born here

I was born here

By a lucky twist of fate

I got to be born here

So stop using my borders like a prison gate S

top using my flag like a symbol of hate

It’s only dumb luck we were born this way

Lucky we were born here


Lucky to be born here


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13. Last Drinks

Written by Michael Waugh

There’s a texta-coloured drawing in a big white plastic box bought from IKEA

That I keep up on the wardrobe

And I’m looking pretty grumpy – you must’ve drawn me in the morning

And it says ‘Dad, I love you’ in fluro pink


And here’s a picture of our family in St Kilda

I think we’re standing on the porch at Clyde St

And your mum looks so young and so pretty

And I hope that when you open this you find her beauty spilling out

Like all that red hair ‘round her face


I’ve been keeping treasures here for you to find

Songs and letters, things I used to think

And there’s $20 in my bedside drawer so I can buy you one last drink


There’s a clipping that I found about Glenmaggie in the ‘20s

And what happened when they tried to build the Weir

They bought up all the farms from all the poorest in the district

And though they didn’t want to go they built a wall and made them leave

When the flood came, they gathered at the hotel

And when the water reached the bar they called ‘last drinks’


And I’ve put this story here to remind you

That the people that you come from

Fought until they had to swim away


I’ve been keeping treasures here for you to find

Songs and letters, things I used to think

And there’s $20 in my bedside drawer so I can buy you one last drink


And it’s just a box of birthday cards and photos and a Humphrey B Bear teddy

That you’ll probably throw away

But I hope that when you find this, you know that you were loved

And this junk is just what’s left when all the rest is washed away


I’ve been keeping treasures here for you to find

Songs and letters, things I used to think

Take that $20 in my bedside drawer and let me buy you one last drink

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