It goes, one for the money, two for the privilege
I grew up in the inner city of Sydney
Problems, I had a whole lot of them in me
Smoked a lot of weed at the age of sixteen
Spend time tryna find out my history
Wondering what it was the wind was whispering
I'm from a land where the sunlight's blistering
And everybody's got their own get-rich-quick scheme
Money, money, money, make more money quickly
Build machinery to mine and dig deep
The new gold rush economic dick tease
Snap your neck back at a break neck quick speed
High school assembly signing the anthem
The words sound empty and I can't stand them
Even back then I had to deal with the phantom
I called myself Australian short hand for random
Bang to the boogie, bang, bang the boogie
Bang to the boogie, bang, bang the boogie
Bang to the boogie, bang, bang the boogie
Bang to the Lucky Country boogie the beat
I got a Chinese father and a white mother
And I was a punk drummer back when I was just a youngun
I'm a mixed bag, mixed race, mixed up kid
(What you got) with something to give, and I give what I can
I'm from a land where blokes are blokes
And they yell stop the boats and It gets them votes
And they brag and they boast and promote a fair go
The closer you look the more you see they don't
And you hope that this changes excepting it won't
Like somewhere along the way that's all she wrote
Summerland really has a heart of snow
Where the temperature and attitudes are 40 below
But I still call Australia home
I still hit the road with a hunger to roam
And pack a little piece of the place in my heart and bones
Every single time I get up and go, now here we go
I am from a cashed up land of pirates
A beautiful island with a sense of entitlement
Me first attitudes, highly competitive
Perched inbetween pioneering and irrelevant
Casually racist overly cautious
We lock the boarders up like it was a fortress
Suffocated by a sense of importance
And governed by minds that suffer from smallness
So much focus on the money, I'm nauseous
With no thought for those less fortunate
And this portrait is far from flawless
A little distorted and we're all caught in it
I'm so board of it, it; s so fraudulent
We can afford it but don't press pause on it
You can complain or change your coordinates
Me, I stay steady tryna get at the source of it
And you don't stop, rock to the rhythm you don't stop
Make money money money make a lot, too much just ain't enough
Writer(s): Joel Ma
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