Monster meeting Song Lyrics

We Are Starting Something Here
(Lyric & music: Richard Lewis)

Chorus We are starting something here
Too right we’re starting something
It might take a month, might take a year
We are ready for the fight
We are starting something here
Too right we’re starting something
And if they choose to interfere
There’s a fire will ignite
We are starting something here Starting tonight.

You can break a twig in half
With your finger and your thumb
But when a bunch is tied together
You can try ’til kingdom come
We will not bend
We will not break
It’s more than money that’s at stake
It’s our rights
And we will fight.

We are starting something here…

Men are digging their own grave
In this hell of mud and dust
Still, you expect us to be slaves
To a law that is unjust
We will not bend
We will not break
We’ve had as much as we will take
And now it’s time
To stop this crime.

We are starting something here…

Epilogue
They will remember
In years to come
The 15th of December, 1851.

…………………………………………………………………………

The Cards That Fell
(Lyric & music: Jamie Roberts)

We anchored down in Hobson’s Bay
We crowded the deck in the pouring rain
Along the jetty drunk watermen sneered
We held their gaze as we swallowed our fear.

Through the mud to busy Bourke Street
We imagined the gold right under our feet
We listened to stories of great fortunes made
To Forest Creek our plans were laid.

We walked together into the unknown
United in strength, no man alone
here’s gold to be won boys and we are free men
The cards drawn today may never fall again.

We worked our claim and we washed our stuff
We saw lady madness masquerading as luck
Plenty of diggers got dragged away
They were caught with no License, and taken in chains.

Then came word of the government plan
To rob us for mining on Victorian land
Double the License you’ll pay it you’ll see
Proclaiming it Law is just a formality.

We went on a Monday to Shepherds Hut
The men who were talking spoke from their gut
The crowd that was gathered was like a monster force
One those in power could never ignore.

We walked together into the unknown
United in strength, no man alone
There’s gold to be won boys and we are free men
The cards drawn today may never fall again.

The news came from Melbourne, their plan was withdrawn
We called it a victory but we had been warned
One voice may be silenced, one man may be crushed
But a thousand calls for justice can never be hushed.

We walked together into the unknown
There’s gold to be won boys and we are free men
The cards drawn today may never fall again.

We walked together into the unknown
United in strength, no man alone
There’s gold to be won boys and we are free men
The cards drawn today may never fall again.

…………………………………………………………………………

Thirty Shillings a Month
(Lyric & music: Martin McKenna)

Thirty shillings a month to dig for gold
In the dust and the heat and the rain and the cold
While the squatter pays, I understand
Around the same for a swag of land.

For ten quid a year they give him a vote
He has a say in what we have to pay
And they lock up the land from folks such as us
Time to stand up for what’s right and what’s just.

Some diggers strike riches, but most strike it tough
Now the government claims that we don’t pay enough
So they’ll double the fee. It’s easy you see
To keep us in chains while the squatter rides free.

When we came to this land we hoped we’d find
Old servant and master roles left far behind
But the gentry and crown are eager to see
Us kept in our place, so they’ll double the fee.

So come gather boys, at Forest Creek
Time to be bold, there’s no place for the meek
We’ll rally for justice and what is our right Victory is ours’ if we diggers unite.

…………………………………………………………………………

Fool’s Gold
(Lyric & music: Peter Kenyon)

If you make some money
The taxman comes
And shoves you in the creek
Whatever don’t get wet
That’s the part you keep.
Same with a nugget
Or the gold dust
Sewn inside your coat
If it sinks it’s theirs
You can keep what floats.

But we’ll pay no tax
When the new one’s double-fold
We ain’t breakin’ our backs
Workin’ for fool’s gold.

If you make no money
The government men
Still demand their cut
With a riot act
Or a rifle butt
When your worldly goods
Are a stake and tent
A pan and a pickaxe
It’s a travesty

That the rich call tax.
And we’ll be no slaves
And we won’t back down or fold
We ain’t diggin’ our graves
Ain’t workin’ for fool’s gold.

I hear that in Geelong
There’s factories running out of men
They’re out to drive us back to town
Drive us down again.

But they’ll get no tax
No blood from shale and stone
We ain’t breakin’ our backs
Workin’ for fool’s gold.
We ain’t come this far
To all fall down and fold
We ain’t breakin’ our backs
Ain’t workin’ for fool’s gold.

…………………………………………………………………………

 The Ballad of Forest Creek
(Lyric & music: Patrick Killeen)

I write this letter to you though you told me not to come
There’s nothing left in our fair green land that took from me, my son
I’m poor here too, a slave to tax, thirty shillings just to claim
A month of heat and dust and sweat, yeah the Government’s to blame.

You’d never dream a place so dry, a tinderbox all around
But a man can dig and pan and work; there’re riches to be found
The natives think that we are mad, they think a man a fool
To dig this golden metal, too soft for any tool.

God made this land to test the faithful, but maybe there’s something more
There’re rebels here, and freedom too, as rich as any ore.

A letter came, passed to my claim, it’s worn by many hands
A rumor on the evening winds, a new tax on our lands
Doubled License. Doubled fee. That’s sixty now per moon
The traps are out but a meeting’s called and it comes none too soon.

God made this land to test the faithful, you live by what you earn
There’s a hub down there at forest creek and the wheel is set to turn.

They need a science of discontent if they’re ever to understand
What happens when republicans are pressed ‘till they can’t stand
I’ll never be a fighting man but I rally to this call
Subtlety and self-control are deadly to them all

God made this land to test the faithful, you live by what you earn
There’s a hub down there at forest creek and the wheel is set to turn.

We gather fifteen thousand strong. Proud men on the flat
“Where’s our freedom and liberty?” Well, the Government saw to that
A monstrous sight, men proud and free, united in our cause
This land is only as strong as the men who keep it’s laws.

Red the night, a dusky sky; I’ve lived too short to die
The traps have guns but power flows from the look in a man’s eyes
I said this land was tinder-dry, well it burns now with our light
We will have democracy, we will stand and fight.

God made this land to test the faithful, you live by what you earn
There’s a hub down there at forest creek and the wheel is set to turn.

God made this land to test the faithful, but maybe there’s something more
There’re rebels here, and freedom too, as rich as any ore.

…………………………………………………………………………

More In our Hearts than Gold                                                    

(Lyric & Music: Mickey Levis & Annie Morabito)

We left so much behind
Worlds away from home for mines
Dreamtimes left lying here

The holes we have left this time
Are holes left in our hearts and minds
Still you are wanting more

There’s more to this meeting than meets the eye
More in our hearts than gold
Strength in our numbers

Rights on our side
We’ll only look forward
Leave our past behind

We all have dreams we follow
Yours is no different to mine
Without ours yours won’t be fulfilled

Our future is not yours to hold
Freedom is a right of all
Together our dreams will unfold

Thirty shillings is more than enough
Any more and we can’t survive
We’ll meet at the shepherds hut at four
Show Latrobe what’s on our mind

A twig alone it may be bent or broke
Tied together we’ll all unite
At the junction of Forest and Wattle Creek
We’ll show Latrobe what’s on our mind

There’s more to this meeting than meets the eye
More in our hearts than gold
Strength in our numbers
Rights on our side
We’ll only look forward
Leave our past behind

…………………………………………………………………………

 Father Dear
(Lyric: Frank Jones, music Frank Jones & Christie Wositzky-Jones)

Father dear, I pray this letter finds you and mother in health
And all my beloved sisters and brothers, blessings on them as well
I tell you no lie, not an hour goes by without home in my heart and tear in my eye

And every night in my dreams there I am with you.

Father dear, all the seeds I’ve sown have withered on the ground
So I find myself here in Castlemaine where fortunes daily are found
With a calico roof and a shirtless back I’ve been rocking a cradle of stones
There’s a pot of gold at this rainbow’s end, I know it to my bones.         

Father dear, I hope and pray I still own a place in your heart
I confess there are days when I rue my resolve to turn my back on your hearth
And life is harsh at this end of the world and comforts few to be found
But in the eyes of these men there’s a light that says, “To no master shall we bow”.

But Father dear, the tyrants still torment us
They mean to try to yoke us to their plough
Will we yield to tyranny and oppression?
No, not here, Father dear, not now.

Father dear, we meet upon the morrow
We will raise our flag and our voices so clear the world shall hear
Fare thee well, Father dear, pray do not fear for me
They may try to break a single twig but a bundle never yields.

Voices repeat

They may try to break a single twig, oh but a bundle shall never yield.

(Father dear, all my love to you and mother, brothers and sisters too, Your loving son.)

…………………………………………………………………………

Gather ‘Round The Flag
(Lyric & words: Dave Maxwell & Jan ‘Yarn’ Wositzky)

Gather ‘round the flag, boys
Gather ‘round the flag
Diggers all, diggers all
Gather ‘round the flag.

We fly the shovel and the pick for our honest labour
The emu, the kangaroo, we fly for Australia
And if we stick together, boys, and say not ‘I’, say ‘Us’
We’ll weight the gold, and weigh our dreams
Upon the scales of justice.

Gather ‘round the flag, boys
Gather ‘round the flag
Diggers all, diggers all
Stand around our flag.

…………………………………………………………………………

 Three Quid for the Privilege
(Lyric & music: Doug Owen)

Hear what we say
We’ll never pay
Three quid for a License
To work an honest day

Spread the word to the diggers
From Clunes to Ballarat
At Castlemaine and Campbell’s Creek
Call ‘em up from Winters Flat
Come join us Taffy Welshman
All you California boys
Paddy Irish, Jimmy Chinaman
Have your say and make a noise

Should we pay? (Don’t pay)
Should we ever pay? (No never)
Three quid for the privilege
Of an honest working day
Should we pay? (Don’t pay)
Should we ever pay?(No never)
Stand up, united
And as one we’ll have our way.

We search for the glitter at Forest Creek
From dawn to the evening star
And we thank God for every speck we see
We’re diggin’ for the yella stuff
For the gold that all men crave
But governments still crave it more than we.

So should we pay? (Don’t pay)
Should we ever pay? (No never)
Three quid for the privilege
Of an honest working day
Should we pay? (Don’t pay)
Should we ever pay? (No never)
Stand up, united
And as one we’ll have our way.

Let’s swear the oath of union
Beneath the Southern Cross

There’s a handful of troopers
Ten thousand of us
Man-to-man at Golden Point
Justice from the start
There’s fire in the glitter
There’s fire in the heart

So should we pay? (Don’t pay)
Should we ever pay? (No never)
Three quid for the privilege
Of an honest working day

Should we pay? (Don’t pay)
Should we ever pay? (No never)
Stand up, united
And as one we’ll have our way.

Hear what we say
Don’t ever pay
Three quid for a License
For an honest working day.

…………………………………………………………………………

We Stand For Our Rights
(Lyric & music: Merryn Lamb)

It’s four o’clock and the gold diggings stop
Down with our shovels, our picks and the lot
Men rally in thousands around the bright flag
Depicting our union and the grievance we have

We stand for our Rights
Injustice our plight, with vigour we’ll fight
We stand for our Rights
A tax born from spite, the diggers unite.

On Forest Creek Hill under stringy bark trees
Proud voices ring out against power and greed
So listen up troopers and Gov’ner La Trobe
Step back and observe while this law’s overthrown

For we came here in droves from all over the globe
Dreaming and hoping on the promise of gold
‘Cause poor me can be rich men by the end of a day
And this ain’t no chance Latrobe will take away
And this ain’t no chance La Trobe will take away.

And the world’s turned upside down
With gold in the ground and a new life to be found
Yes the world’s turned upside down
Disturbing the wealthy, unnerving the crown
Disturbing the wealthy, unnerving the crown

We stand for our Rights
Injustice our plight, with vigour we’ll fight
We stand for our Rights
A tax born from spite, the diggers unite.

…………………………………………………………………………

There’s a Good Time Coming
(Lyrics: Charles Mackey, traditional, with additions from Jan ‘Yarn’ Wositzky. Music: Stephen Foster, instrumental break Jan ‘Yarn’ Wositzky.)

There’s a good time a coming, a good time a coming
A good time a coming, a good time a coming.

There’s a good time a coming, a good time a coming
We may not live to see the day but earth shall glisten in the ray
Of the good time a coming
Worth, not birth, shall rule mankind and be acknowledged stronger,
And everyone will have a chance – wait a little longer.
There’s a good time a coming, a good time a coming
When a poor mans family shall not live in misery
In the good time a coming
Every woman, every man, daily growing stronger
Soon enough will be our day – wait a little longer.

There’s a good time a coming, a good time a coming
Squatters shan’t permitted be to overrun this colony
In the good time a coming
And diggers with our rusty beards will prove who is the stronger
We’ll stand up to the Governor – wait a little longer.

There’s a good time coming, a good time coming,
Camp officials shall have sense, and try not to give offence
In the good time a coming
Magistrates too will be found with love of justice stronger,
And also know a little law – wait a little longer.

There’s a good time coming, a good time coming
Not a schicer shall be sunk, nor a digger e’er seen drunk
In the good time a coming
A comic song oft tell the truth in place of weapons stronger
But now we’re going in to win – wait a little longer.

There’s a good time a coming, a good time a coming
We may not live to see the day but earth shall glisten in the ray
Of the good time a coming
Worth, not birth, shall rule mankind and be acknowledged stronger
And everyone will have a vote – wait a little longer.

There’s a good time a coming, a good time a coming,
A good time a coming, a good time a coming.

…………………………………………………………………………

The Quartz And The Clay
(Lyric & music: Tony Ryan)

Eighteen and Fifty-One in the year of Our Lord
Gold nugget and gemstone
In the creek and the ford
But gold is free plunder
To make rich the Queen’s men
They plunder the digger, it’s La Trobe’s regimen

In the harbour Port Phillip
Where the tall ships are moored.
Word spread like wild fire
Of a golden reward

The mountain Alexander by the forested creek
We’ll dig for our gold and be rich in a week

But La Trobe has a ransom
So the squatter may keep
Ye hard working Britons
Our labour so cheap

This open invitation it was nailed to a tree
“Come to a meeting and proclaim you are free”

There’s great strength in union
La Trobe he did see
Fie! Upon such pusillanimity!
We are Britons bound together
We are strong and we’re free
Fie upon such pusillanimity!

Fifteenth of December Eighteen and Fifty-One
‘Neath our colours we gathered.
Let the traps have their fun
The tyrant is the squatter
And I’m a free man
And I’ll buy not a License from La Trobe or his man

Many thousands we gathered
By the forested creek
To proclaim our freedom
And justice to seek.
Sent our men to Port Phillip
To tell the Queen’s man
A miner has rights and the digger a plan

In the year of our lord Eighteen and Fifty-Two
If the plunder continues
We know what we’ll do
Agitate and defy, no ransom well pay
As we dig for our gold ‘neath the quartz and the clay

Who knows but a seer what the future may hold
A digger has rights and a miner is bold
Well be free of the tyrant there’ll be no traps to pay
And I pray that no blood stains the quartz and the clay

Who knows but a seer what the future may hold
A miner has rights and a digger is bold
Take arms if we have too if there’s no other way.
And I pray that no blood stains the quartz and the clay
Agitate and defy if there’s no other way
I pray that no blood stains the quartz and the clay

And I pray that no blood stains the quartz and the clay

…………………………………………………………………………

 The Monster Meeting
(Lyric & music: Frank Jones)

I gave goodbye kiss to Molly in Melbourne town in May
Kid in a cot, kid in a cradle, ‘nother kid on the way
Said I’m off to find our fortune, love, in the hills of Castlemaine
And I’ll be back before you even know I’ve been away  (time)

A shilling for a shovel, a shilling for a pan
If you don’t have a shilling pick the gold up with your hands
There’s plenty here to share, so, brother stake your claim
And meet me at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine
Meet me at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine

Harry was a barman, Frederick a beak
William, a policeman ‘fore he came to Forest Creek
Now we’ve, all of us, become diggers following the vein
And we’ll be at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine
We’ll be at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine

No more “Yes, Sir”, “No, Sir”, “If you please”
No more livin’ our life down on our knees
We’ll all be rich as kings and long will be our reign
See you at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine

Upon the Scales of Justice each man will be weighed
If the Traps are brutal bastards for cruelty they’ll pay
But there’s one who stands above them all, and La Trobe is his name
Will he be at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine
No, he won’t be at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine

No more “Yes, Sir”, “No, Sir”, “If you please”
No more livin’ our life down on our knees
We’ll all be rich as kings and long will be our reign
See you at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine
We’ll be at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine

I gave goodbye kiss to Molly in Melbourne town in May
Kid in a cot, kid in a cradle, ‘nother kid on the way
Said I’m off to find our fortune, love, in the hills of Castlemaine
And I’ll be back before you even know I’ve been away

Meet me at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine
Meet me at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine
Meet me at the Monster Meeting outside Castlemaine

 

Home | The Story | Links, Docs and Archives | The 2012 Project | News | Contact