by Daniel Kelly
Am G Walk another mile, ford another stream, C G Am G Am Cross another river, bury another dream C G Am But it’s still so far to go to port Jackson C G D G My name is William Clark, We wrecked of 90 mile beach, C G D Em (D Am) Survivors of the Sydney Cove, Sent north to bring relief, By April of 97, we had started our long march, 600 miles to Jackson’s Port, through country wild and parched Our party was just seventeen, when we started out that day, Twelve Lascars from the orient, chief mate Thomson lead the way We survived on fish and mussels, crossed a thousand streams, Cut our feet on rocks and stones, spear wielding natives filled our dreams After two months painful journey, we reached safety in mid-May Of the 17 that started, only three made botany bay Some were killed by natives, some by fatigue and thirst, our 600 mile journey, confirmed this land is cursed The truth of our survival, was lost to histories page, The natives gave us food and drink, tracked our every stage. But the help that they had given, was met with stony silence, Governor Hunter thought it better, to justify the violence.