My City of Sydney
*
My city of Sydney, I miss the warmth of you.
The heart of your people,
The little church steeple in Woolamalu.
Sea boats white polka-dotting the blue of the bay,
As they glide on their way through a clear afternoon.
Night folk searching for fun, meaning most everyone,
As they cross and talk in their merry balloon.
My city of Sydney, I miss your glow at dark.
Miss the Opera House lights from the bridge
And the nights in a quiet Hyde Park.
Though I'm thousands of miles from the surface
Of smiles from your laugh-loving children at play.
My warm city of Sydney, I've never been away.
My city of Sydney, I miss your glow at dark.
Miss the Opera House lights from the bridge
And the nights in a quiet Hyde Park.
Though I'm thousands of miles from the surface
Of smiles from your laugh-loving children at play.
My warm city of Sydney, I've never been a-way¦
My City of Sydney (ATN7).
Goodnight Song from 1969.
They all say the same thing, old taxi drivers, receptionists, anyone beyond about 40: Sydney isn't what it used to be, they want out. There is nothing that could be more sceptical. The pain was driving his mood downwards. He responded in kind. I know, I fantasise about it all the time, getting out. If it wasn't for kids, work, the life that has trapped me here, I'd be gone like everyone else. It's not what it used to be. I loved it in the old days, bohemian paradise, Amsterdam by the Pacific. Now it's nothing like that.
I know, they say, I really used to love Sydney. You could go out any night of the week and end up talking with anybody. And that was true, though they probably meant it in different ways. A great pick up town. You'd go out to get pissed and always end up somewhere with someone. Not often a tragic accident. We all used to love this place, that provided so much opportunity, so much hope, so many good times, such great parties, such great nights. I threw an End Of Sydney party once, when I was going to London to live for a while, and hundreds showed up.
Those sort of things don't happen anymore, at least not in my life. But we all agree it's just not the same, and it's not just age. It was so beautiful, there in the early dawn after a night of partying. It's the traffic, it's the difficulty of living here, it's turned everyone into snarling beasts, crawling over each other just to survive. Tbey're rude, grasping and nasty; and no one could care less about anyone else anymore. They can't afford to. Look at all the people losing their home, while our Gucci socialist leaders swan around the world preening themselves.
Sometimes I see the tears well up in their eyes. They've tried so hard, they've worked so hard, all to see their efforts come to nought, stuck in soul destroying jobs, the missus always whinging for more money, nagging that he hasn't been more successful, the kids feeding off him, expecting more, more, more, driving him into an early grave and the bitches couldn't care less. Their soul eroded, their hopes destroyed, while in the dual economy flash cash flashes by in black Audi's and swish new VW sedans, Subarus, BMWs.
Why can't there be a simple place where hard work is rewarded and dignity and decency prized. But all that gets is sneers in a fast selfish ultimately materialistic place, where figs and raspberries are the fashion fruits, where half the population can't afford to put food on the table and half the population can't bear to stop shopping. The enormous till scrolls roll out at the supermarket checkouts, as they buy and buy and buy. And many of them, fat, lazy, unemployable, look like they've never worked a day in their life.
It's all too cruel; it's driving every one nuts, the smart little twenty somethings who think the world works, who already have offices with views down the harbour and accept the mantle of this beautiful city as if it was their birthright. Is it just because it's a big city now? they ask. And I shake my head, no, it's more than that. It's so difficult to survive here now. You have to run to stand still. They crawl over each other to survive, their shoes pushing the heads of others under water just so they can breathe.
There are vistas of the city at every angle, from stony outcrops and ancient sandstone cliffs, winding roads, wealthy palaces that have crusted across every arm of land around the harbour foreshore, those astonishingly comfortable lives for the people who have made it to the top of the heap, the share portfolios, the collections of houses. Oh daddy thank you so much. As greed replaced struggle and contempt replaced compassion. We can't go out now and end up anywhere; and not just for physical reasons. He should be at home with his mother, the voice cuts through the fog, and these echoes from long ago mean nothing anymore; that city where we used to go out every night for the party of our lives, it's gone.
That city I knew where John Bygate reigned supreme and every day was a discovery, where the clear cold light picked out the whitewashed terraces in stark detail, where we were all famous on our own stages, where you could zip across town to attend to chores or catch up with someone. No one zips anywhere anymore, as the city chokes on its own traffic. Where any celebration was an excuse to embrace strangers; to converse in streams of intense intimacy, to tell each other stories and go out, go out, to the bars and clubs where every drink brought laughter and every encounter was full of promise. Not him, not him, maybe him, oh heck does it really matter, lets have another drink. Where bohemian paradise was an acceptable place to be, where the drudgery of work and mortgages and modern day slavery had not even been thought of. Now we're all slaves, to credit cards, mortgages, landlords, to our bosses and our wives and our parasitic families, where all of us work like crazy just to stay afloat and nothing, oh nothing, means anything anymore.
THE BIGGER STORY:
Why exactly are we in Afghanistan? What business is it of ours? Are we once more doing more harm than good?
http://www.smh.com.au/news/world/rudd-takes-trade-mission-to-brussels/2008/04/02/1206851012018.html
KEVIN RUDD arrived in Brussels last night Sydney time to try to breathe life into the moribund Doha global free trade push by promoting it as the shot in the arm the world economy needs.
While in Europe, the Prime Minister will also join forces with the US President, Gorge Bush, to urge Europeans to share more of the heavy lifting in Afghanistan.
In a speech to be delivered after talks with European Commission officials, Mr Rudd was set to say he had not arrived to "bash" Europe but to work with it to reach a conclusion on Doha before the end-of-the-year deadline.
Asserting that a resolution was "within our reach", Mr Rudd would say that in agriculture, all export subsidies would be eliminated and domestic subsidies would be slashed by two-thirds. Tariffs on industrial products would be greatly reduced.
In a swipe at the Howard government, Mr Rudd would say he would not follow the practice of past prime ministers and ministers, which was to "travel to Brussels, bash up the commission, issue a press release, then go home".
Protectionism was the enemy of economies and working families and the momentum on trade needed to be maintained.
"The global economy now desperately needs a shot of confidence in the arm."
Later, Mr Rudd was to join Mr Bush in Bucharest for the NATO summit. Mr Bush told the summit yesterday that NATO needed to lift its game in Afghanistan. There are 47,000 NATO soldiers in the country.
"An alliance that never fired a shot in the Cold War is now leading the fight in a key battleground in the first war in the 21st century," Mr Bush said.
"If we do not defeat the terrorists in Afghanistan, we will face them on our own soil. Innocent civilians in Europe and North America would then pay the price."
Australia is as frustrated as the US at the lack of overall strategy in Afghanistan and the lesser role being played by many European countries.
Mr Rudd says Afghanistan requires "an effective and collective military and civilian strategy" that will "mean all countries needing to pull their weight".
The Opposition Leader, Brendan Nelson, has criticised Mr Rudd for attending the summit but Mr Bush has heartily thanked the Prime Minister.
France, Britain and Poland are likely to send more troops but other nations are resisting.
My city of Sydney, I miss the warmth of you.
The heart of your people,
The little church steeple in Woolamalu.
Sea boats white polka-dotting the blue of the bay,
As they glide on their way through a clear afternoon.
Night folk searching for fun, meaning most everyone,
As they cross and talk in their merry balloon.
My city of Sydney, I miss your glow at dark.
Miss the Opera House lights from the bridge
And the nights in a quiet Hyde Park.
Though I'm thousands of miles from the surface
Of smiles from your laugh-loving children at play.
My warm city of Sydney, I've never been away.
My city of Sydney, I miss your glow at dark.
Miss the Opera House lights from the bridge
And the nights in a quiet Hyde Park.
Though I'm thousands of miles from the surface
Of smiles from your laugh-loving children at play.
My warm city of Sydney, I've never been a-way¦
My City of Sydney (ATN7).
Goodnight Song from 1969.
They all say the same thing, old taxi drivers, receptionists, anyone beyond about 40: Sydney isn't what it used to be, they want out. There is nothing that could be more sceptical. The pain was driving his mood downwards. He responded in kind. I know, I fantasise about it all the time, getting out. If it wasn't for kids, work, the life that has trapped me here, I'd be gone like everyone else. It's not what it used to be. I loved it in the old days, bohemian paradise, Amsterdam by the Pacific. Now it's nothing like that.
I know, they say, I really used to love Sydney. You could go out any night of the week and end up talking with anybody. And that was true, though they probably meant it in different ways. A great pick up town. You'd go out to get pissed and always end up somewhere with someone. Not often a tragic accident. We all used to love this place, that provided so much opportunity, so much hope, so many good times, such great parties, such great nights. I threw an End Of Sydney party once, when I was going to London to live for a while, and hundreds showed up.
Those sort of things don't happen anymore, at least not in my life. But we all agree it's just not the same, and it's not just age. It was so beautiful, there in the early dawn after a night of partying. It's the traffic, it's the difficulty of living here, it's turned everyone into snarling beasts, crawling over each other just to survive. Tbey're rude, grasping and nasty; and no one could care less about anyone else anymore. They can't afford to. Look at all the people losing their home, while our Gucci socialist leaders swan around the world preening themselves.
Sometimes I see the tears well up in their eyes. They've tried so hard, they've worked so hard, all to see their efforts come to nought, stuck in soul destroying jobs, the missus always whinging for more money, nagging that he hasn't been more successful, the kids feeding off him, expecting more, more, more, driving him into an early grave and the bitches couldn't care less. Their soul eroded, their hopes destroyed, while in the dual economy flash cash flashes by in black Audi's and swish new VW sedans, Subarus, BMWs.
Why can't there be a simple place where hard work is rewarded and dignity and decency prized. But all that gets is sneers in a fast selfish ultimately materialistic place, where figs and raspberries are the fashion fruits, where half the population can't afford to put food on the table and half the population can't bear to stop shopping. The enormous till scrolls roll out at the supermarket checkouts, as they buy and buy and buy. And many of them, fat, lazy, unemployable, look like they've never worked a day in their life.
It's all too cruel; it's driving every one nuts, the smart little twenty somethings who think the world works, who already have offices with views down the harbour and accept the mantle of this beautiful city as if it was their birthright. Is it just because it's a big city now? they ask. And I shake my head, no, it's more than that. It's so difficult to survive here now. You have to run to stand still. They crawl over each other to survive, their shoes pushing the heads of others under water just so they can breathe.
There are vistas of the city at every angle, from stony outcrops and ancient sandstone cliffs, winding roads, wealthy palaces that have crusted across every arm of land around the harbour foreshore, those astonishingly comfortable lives for the people who have made it to the top of the heap, the share portfolios, the collections of houses. Oh daddy thank you so much. As greed replaced struggle and contempt replaced compassion. We can't go out now and end up anywhere; and not just for physical reasons. He should be at home with his mother, the voice cuts through the fog, and these echoes from long ago mean nothing anymore; that city where we used to go out every night for the party of our lives, it's gone.
That city I knew where John Bygate reigned supreme and every day was a discovery, where the clear cold light picked out the whitewashed terraces in stark detail, where we were all famous on our own stages, where you could zip across town to attend to chores or catch up with someone. No one zips anywhere anymore, as the city chokes on its own traffic. Where any celebration was an excuse to embrace strangers; to converse in streams of intense intimacy, to tell each other stories and go out, go out, to the bars and clubs where every drink brought laughter and every encounter was full of promise. Not him, not him, maybe him, oh heck does it really matter, lets have another drink. Where bohemian paradise was an acceptable place to be, where the drudgery of work and mortgages and modern day slavery had not even been thought of. Now we're all slaves, to credit cards, mortgages, landlords, to our bosses and our wives and our parasitic families, where all of us work like crazy just to stay afloat and nothing, oh nothing, means anything anymore.
THE BIGGER STORY:
Why exactly are we in Afghanistan? What business is it of ours? Are we once more doing more harm than good?
http://www.smh.com.au/news/world/rudd-takes-trade-mission-to-brussels/2008/04/02/1206851012018.html
KEVIN RUDD arrived in Brussels last night Sydney time to try to breathe life into the moribund Doha global free trade push by promoting it as the shot in the arm the world economy needs.
While in Europe, the Prime Minister will also join forces with the US President, Gorge Bush, to urge Europeans to share more of the heavy lifting in Afghanistan.
In a speech to be delivered after talks with European Commission officials, Mr Rudd was set to say he had not arrived to "bash" Europe but to work with it to reach a conclusion on Doha before the end-of-the-year deadline.
Asserting that a resolution was "within our reach", Mr Rudd would say that in agriculture, all export subsidies would be eliminated and domestic subsidies would be slashed by two-thirds. Tariffs on industrial products would be greatly reduced.
In a swipe at the Howard government, Mr Rudd would say he would not follow the practice of past prime ministers and ministers, which was to "travel to Brussels, bash up the commission, issue a press release, then go home".
Protectionism was the enemy of economies and working families and the momentum on trade needed to be maintained.
"The global economy now desperately needs a shot of confidence in the arm."
Later, Mr Rudd was to join Mr Bush in Bucharest for the NATO summit. Mr Bush told the summit yesterday that NATO needed to lift its game in Afghanistan. There are 47,000 NATO soldiers in the country.
"An alliance that never fired a shot in the Cold War is now leading the fight in a key battleground in the first war in the 21st century," Mr Bush said.
"If we do not defeat the terrorists in Afghanistan, we will face them on our own soil. Innocent civilians in Europe and North America would then pay the price."
Australia is as frustrated as the US at the lack of overall strategy in Afghanistan and the lesser role being played by many European countries.
Mr Rudd says Afghanistan requires "an effective and collective military and civilian strategy" that will "mean all countries needing to pull their weight".
The Opposition Leader, Brendan Nelson, has criticised Mr Rudd for attending the summit but Mr Bush has heartily thanked the Prime Minister.
France, Britain and Poland are likely to send more troops but other nations are resisting.
Comments