(author unknown but greatly appreciated)
We love to hate Victorians throughout the footy season,
Just for the fact they’re from
They tend to think Australian Rules belongs to them, at least,
In the west we simply label them “the know alls from the East”.
But Australians came together, sporting squabbles set aside,
When disaster struck
We’ve seen pictures in the papers; we’ve seen them on TV,
Homes and buildings burnt to ashes, the pain and misery,
The faces of survivors, the tears they tried to hide,
Gave us just the briefest glimpse of how they feel inside.
We saw the flames engulf the trees; we saw the sky turn red,
And, in the aftermath, the cars, where some died as they fled.
We heard the graphic stories of the panic they felt that day,
As the townsfolk faced decisions, should they go or should they stay?
The horrors of reality, their lives gone up in smoke,
The loss of whole communities with pretty sounding names.
The toll we don’t want to hear, the numbers who have died,
On that black Saturday, the day
The worst peacetime disaster
In surroundings long regarded as being lush and green,
Drought throughout the country had left it tinder dry,
At the mercy of the fireballs that “rained down from the sky”
The fires that raged through the hills that February day,
Have changed the course of countless lives in every kind of way.
There’s absolutely nothing left of the futures that were planned,
Just twisted tin and ashes and scars upon the land.
Survivors say they’ll build again in their old neighbourhood,
And life will become normal, and life will become good,
But their lives will be so different and they won’t forget the cost,
Of absent family and friends that they have loved and lost.
No matter where you come from, or how far you may roam,
There’s some place in
But above all we are Australians, State issues can’t divide,
And we won’t forget what happened The Day