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suffrage and onwards




What will I do about you,
husband -
Love you
Hate you
Ignore you
Walk out and forget you -
Or somehow together
can we
Learn to be free?

What will I do about you,
daughter -
Love you
Resent you
Confine your spirit -
Or, somehow,
learn to let you
Grow free and strong.

And what, oh what,
will I do about you,
Knowing you exist
somewhere out there -
Will I seek you out
Wait for you to find me.
Or flee in cowardice
From even the
that you exist?

Vashti '74


The Mask of Beauty -
Hex on Slavery

Down with chains
chains on brains
shackled by
beauty claims.

Hex on masters'
ego games.
Free us from the
auction block
Tote that bail
Iron that shirt
don't call him
he'll call you
Shut your mouth
don't think
smile for him
he's always right

Una Stannard


Kamla Bhasin - India

A father
asks his daughter:
Why should you study?
I have sons aplenty
who can study
Girl, why should
you study?

The daughter tells
her father: since you ask,
here's why I must study.
Because I'm a girl,
I must study.

Long denied this right,
I must study
For my dreams
to take flight,
I must study
Knowledge brings
new light,
so I must study
For the battles
I must fight,
I must study
Because I am a girl,
I must study.

To avoid destitution,
I must study
To win independence,
I must study
To fight frustration,
I must study
To find inspiration,
I must study
Because I am a girl,
I must study.

To fight men's violence,
I must study
To end my silence,
I must study
To challenge patriarchy,
I must study
To demolish all hierarchy,
I must study.
Because I am a girl,
I must study.

To mould a faith I can trust,
I must study
To make laws that are just,
I must study
To sweep centuries of dust,
I must study
To challenge what I must,
I must study.
Because I am a girl,
I must study.

To know right from wrong,
I must study
To find a voice
that is strong,
I must study
To write feminist songs
I must study
To make a world where
girls belong,
I must study.
Because I am a girl,
I must study.


Woman Damaged:
A Reply to anti-liberationists

See those women there
Those women wafting
our mental visions,
Grim determination written
on mouths unloosened
by expansive life.
Eyes blank, staring,
fuming deadly fanaticism,
Reflections of minds
in rigid streams o
f right and wrong,
Never spreading over in
awareness of truth.
Turned inwards on imposed,
false contradictions
in rigor mortis and defeat;
driven mad, And
suspended in that madness
by the red herring
of their sex.

Bodies cold and frigid
in disgust,
barbed wire placed
between their legs
making posture difficult,
and focused,
Guarding vaginas only,
with intensity, preventing
real and further knowledge,
deeper understanding
Of the possibilities of self,
Ever prey to men's dictates.
Shackled away from self
experience of the world,
constantly denied,
Perceptions frozen in
false conceptions
enchained by threats of
male nonsense and deceit,
little knowing
they've been duped
into misery and complicity
in their unnatural fate
Such women preach
a so-called wisdom
Based only on a
prisoner's life.
They bludgeon each other
to those deaths,
the very many deaths
a woman is forced to live;
They'll never teach
the men a thing.

Unable then to make
or even see free choices,
despising those who do,
Never truly loving
or creative in their lives,
Unhappy, vicious and
uneasy of change
which would set their
bodies and minds free
A thing unknown and
therefore to be feared and
fought against with all the
weapons of the dead.
That life never gets
a hint of fresh fragrance
Caressing feel, of liberty,
That truth may never
its more healthy progeny
to replace the entrapping,
sticky slime of
man's vindictiveness
His want of real concern
His deadly need to harness
and destroy all things,
His other arrogant designs
which stifle, not reveal,
the truth.

Se those women there,
Drifting through
our unconsciousness,
our consciousness;
They are the measure
of his deadly intrusions.

Marilyn Hillgrave



Do you realize, sisters,
What an evil, subversive
force we are?
Did you know we
started the "sex war"
Invented manhating,
suburban neurosis
and lesbianism?

Did you know that
until we existed -
the holy institution
of marriage flourished?
All mothers loved
their children?
All wives adored
their husbands?
Until we came along.

Did you know
it's our fault
The divorce rate's rising?
Not to mention
male impotence,
Wife bashing,
juvenile delinquency,
Abortions, rapes,
female suicide and insanity?
We invented them all.

Do you realize sisters,
The damage that we've
done to so many
happy lives? Hitherto,
women didn't resent
Unwanted pregnancies,
rape, prostitution,
housework, shitwork,
humiliation, pain -
They enjoyed their
Glowed through
their feminine tears,
Rejoiced in their
god given martyrdom -

Until we invented
female rage,
Aggression, love and
power -
And deliberately corrupted
Thousands of happy women,
With our hellish

How dare we hate
that heavenly status quo
and fight to change it?

How dare we dare
other women to
think and grow?

How dare we
love each other?

There is, of course,
a simple explanation
For our insanity
We're neurotic, paranoid,
Ugly, frustrated
lesbian bitches
Who can't get a man -
All we need is a good fuck.

Don't you believe me, sisters?
Ask any priest or right to lifer -
Ask the pope.
Arianna Stassinopolous
Or Norman Banks -
Ask any frightened woman:
Or, better still,
any terrified man,
Who's tried to subdue
a radical feminist.

Vashti's Voice


A Business Women's Soliloquy
with acknowledgement
to hamlet:

To wed or not to wed,
that is the question,
Whether 'tis better
after all, to marry
And be cajoled and
bullied by a husband,
Or to take up
stenography or clerking,

To love - to wed -
and by a wedding end
The struggles and the
thousand petty cares
That 'slaves' are heir to -
'tis a rare vocation -
Devoutly to be wished for.

To love - to wed -
To wed -
perchance divorce.
Aye, there's the rub!
For in that dream of bliss
what jolts may come
When we have cast aside
our little jobs
Must make us wary.

There's the sorry thought
That makes so many
spinsters hesitate,
for who would bear
the long eternal grind
The employer's joke
the chief clerk's
The insolence of
office boys, the smoke
Of last week's stogies
clinging to the hair
When she herself may
quickly end it all
By getting Married?

Who would not exchange
a dingy office for
a kitchenette - a keyboard
for a cook stove
or a cradle -
But that the dread of
something worse to come
After the honeymoon
- that life of chance from
whose dark bourne
so many have returned
By way of Reno - fills us
with dismay, And makes
us rather bear the jobs
we have
Than fly to evils that we
know not of?

Thus cowardice makes
spinsters of - so many.

Vashti Spring '81, reprinted from
the Queensland UAW Newsletter


What can a helpless
female do?

What can a helpless
female do?
Rock the cradle
and bake and brew,
Or, if no cradle
your fate afford,
Rock your brother's wife
for your board;
Or live in one room
with an invalid cousin,
Or sew shop shirts
for a dollar a dozen,
Or please some man
by looking sweet,
Or please him by
giving him things to eat,
Or please him by
asking him much advice,
And thinking whatever
he does is nice.
Visit the poor
(under supervision),
Doctor the sick who can't
pay a physician,
Save men's time
by doing their praying,
And the other odd jobs
there's no present pay in.
But if you promise to
usurp their employments,
Reserved by them for
their special enjoyments ,
Or if you succeed when
they knew you wouldn't,
Or earn money fast
when they said you couldn't,
Or learn to do things they'd
proved were above you,
You'll hurt their feelings, a
nd then they won't love you.
(20 years old but
still true 1915)

Woman Voter October 28 1915



If only I could just
scream some abuse,
break some windows,
kick some prick
in the balls,
bomb some buildings,
murder some
sexist pig men.

If only it could be
that easy
to destroy
the source of
our oppression,
the cause of
our despair.

If only it could
be that easy
to escape this prison
that is within

Melbourne Feminist Collection 1


1974 Chris Sitka

For nine years now
the entire Indonesian
Women's Movement
has been in gaol.
Fifteen hundred sisters
dressed in dirty rage
every night hungry,
their children crying
This is not distant from my life
No, this painful vision
of barbed-wire life
rips at my eyes daily.

In Portugal
three courageous Marias -
what they were risking
in that fascist
macho country -
wrote an explicit book
about women's oppression,
they were arrested,
brought to trial -
then saved from
two years gaol by a male
(need it be said)
military junta
which abolished censorship.
The newspaper immediately
began publishing
photographs of nude women.

Right here in Australia
a woman working in
a button factory
for $38 a week -
not speaking English she
does not know
that she is entitled to more -
two years ago
lost two fingers in
an unguarded machine.
She has not received
any compensation.
Day after day she
returns to that machine
and the murderous
boredom of her job,
bearing the bruises of
her husband's beatings.
Night after night
returns home to
screaming children and
yet more, and more, work.

Understand that she
has no choice but to
continue to suffer.

Yes, I know it has
all been said before;
we have heard about
the rapes, the beatings,
the backyard abortions
we suffer daily.
But because it happens
every day
can we afford to
feel less angry, less sad?
Isn't it precisely
this constancy
of our oppression
that should outrage us?

I know that we
must not drown in our tears.
Yet how can I not cry
whenever I remember
that woman who,
pregnant and despaiaring,
drank a whole bottle
of whisky in a gulp
and climbed in a
scalding hot bath
which slowly turned red
with her own beautiful blood
and stank from her vomit.

Feeling the reality of this
all too clearly,
a volcano erupts in my heart.
Lava flows from my eyes.

But I will not despair
before the enormity
of our oppression.
I ask only -
very simply -
that we begin to act
to end all this.

Vashti's Voice
Issue No 8 Oct. '74


Alone, you can fight,
you can refuse,
you can take what revenge
you can
but they roll over you.

 But two people fighting
back to back can cut
through a mob,
a snake-dancing file
can break a cordon,
an army
can meet an army. 

Two people can keep each other sane, can give support, conviction, love, massage, hope, sex.

Three people are
a delegation, a committee,
a wedge. 

With four, you can play bridge
and start an organization. 

With six you can rent
a whole house,
eat pie for dinner with no seconds, and hold a fund raising party. 

A dozen make a demonstration.

A hundred fill a hall.

A thousand have solidarity
and your own newsletter;
ten thousand, power
and your own paper;
a hundred thousand,
your own media;
ten million,
your own country.

It goes on one at a time,
it starts when you care to act, it starts when you
do it again after they said no,
it starts when you say
We and know who you mean and each day you mean
one more.

Marge Piercy


Appendix 2 - Songs from the Women's Movement

Songs of the 70's

The Revolting Sisters - Songs of the '70's
A Collection of songs by the 10/40 women for IWD 1991
(State Library of Victoria)

On Appendix 2: ... Mothers, Daughters, Wives - Judy Small ... I Am Woman - Helen Reddy ... Don't be too Polite Girls - Glen Tomasetti ... Sisters Can You Hear Me - Veronica Schwarz (to the tune of Auld Lang Syne) ... Time to Take a Stand ( to the tune of 'Clementine') from Canberra Women's Liberation ... Who? Me? ... Oh! Who Am I? - Beryl Carter ... Woman is Moving - Glen Tomasetti ... Sisters, Rise Up Angry - Meredith Tax, USA ... United We Stand t une of Cabaret  ... Take the Toys from the Boys - Songs 4 Womyn from the Wimmin for Survival Newsletter ... The Shelter Song ... Spirit of Protest (from the Spirit of Progress train) ... Advance Australia Where? ... Uranium for Us to Mine ... The Wind, the Tide and the Sun ... The Right is Out to Crush Your Freedom ... Women's Prison - Glen Tomasetti ... Intoxicated - Toxic Shock

Mothers, Daughters, Wives - Judy Small

A song by Judy Small ©1983 Crafty Maid Music ©1990 Larrikin Music Publishing Pty Ltd

The first time it was fathers the last time it was sons
And in between your husbands marched away with drums and guns
And you never thought to question you just went on with your lives
'Cause all they'd taught you who to be was mothers, daughters, wives

You can only just remember the tears your mothers shed
As they sat and read the papers through the lists and lists of dead
And the gold frames held the photographs that mothers kissed each night
And the doorframes held the shocked and silent strangers from the fight

And it was twenty-one years later with children of your own
The trumpet sounded once again and the soldier boys were gone
And you drove their trucks and made their guns and tended to their wounds
And at night you kissed their photographs and prayed for safe returns

And after it was over you had to learn again
To be just wives and mothers when you'd done the work of men
So you worked to help the needy and you never trod on toes
And the photos on the pianos struck a happy family pose

Then your daughters grew to women and your little boys to men
And you prayed that you were dreaming when the call-up came again
But you proudly smiled and held your tears as they bravely waved goodbye
But the photos on the mantelpieces always made you cry

And now your growing older and in time the photos fade
And in widowhood you sit back and reflect on the parade
Of the passing of your memories as your daughters change their lives
Seeing more to our existence than just mothers, daughters, wives


I Am Woman - Helen Reddy

I am woman hear me roar In numbers too big to ignore
And I know how much to go back and pretend
'Cause I've heard it all before And I've been down there on the floor
No-one's ever gonna keep me there again.

Yes, I am wise, but its wisdom born of paid
Yes I've paid the price but look how much I've gained
If I have to I can do anything
I am strong (strong). I am invincible. I am woman.

You can bend but never break me 'Cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back ever stronger Not a novice any longer
'Cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul.

I am woman watch me grow See me standing toe to toe
As I spread my loving arms across the land
But I'm still an embryo With a long long way to go
Until I make my sister understand.


Don't be too Polite Girls - Glen Tomasetti

We're really on the way girls, really on the way
Hooray for equal pay girls, hooray for equal pay
They're going to give it to most of us In spite of all their fears
But did they really have to make us wait three years!

Though equal pay in principle is now a woman's right
To turn it into practice we must show a little fight
We fear male disapproval if to argue we decide
The boss fears for his bank account, the husband for his pride

Chorus: Don't be too polite girls, don't be too polite
Show a little fight girls, show a little fight
Don't be fearful of offending in case you get the sack
Just recognise your value and you won't look back.

II work as a waitress. My working mates are men
Do I have to go to court to prove I work as hard as them?
The diner knows, the food, the bill, the tips are just the same;
Well, tell me why my pay is less and why am I to blame?

I sew up shirts and trousers, in the clothing trade
Since men don't do the job I really can't ask to be better paid
The people at the top rarely ask for something more
Unless the people underneath are walking out the door.

Chorus: They say a man needs more to feed his children and his wife
But what are the needs of a woman who leads a double working life?
When the whistle blows for knock-off it's not her time for fun
She goes home to do the job that's never paid and never done.

The employer makes his profit, but the argument is weak,
Compared to how a woman needs eight dollars more a week,
Eight dollars more of butter and fruit and meat
And a bit aside to buy some shoes for all the growing feet.

Chorus: 'We can't afford to pay you', say the masters in their wrath.
But the woman says 'Just cut the coat according to the cloth.'
If the economy won't stand it, here's the answer boys.
Cut out the wild extravagance on the new war toys.

Don't be too afraid girls, don't be too afraid
We're clearly underpaid girls, clearly underpaid
Though equal pay in principle is every woman's right
To turn that into practice we must show a little fight.

And all among the bull girls, all among the bull
Keep your hearts full girls, keep your heart full
What good is a man as a doormat or following at heel?
It's not their balls we're after it's a FAIR SQUARE DEAL.


Sisters Can You Hear Me - Veronica Schwarz (to the tune of Auld Lang Syne)

Sisters can you hear me / Sisters everywhere
We're fighting for our freedom / We're fighting for our share
Yes, for our equal share of life / We'll show what we can do
We're fighting for our birthright / For we are people too

From the moment we are born / We're told what we should be
Good daughters, wives and mothers ! / Why can't we just be me
Why can't I just be me, I say? / Your answer takes too long
We've waited for ten thousand years / Now we will right the wrong

No tyrant ever has the power / To say "stay in your place"
To limit minds and bodies / Of half the human race
And all the human race, we say, / should live with equal right
To be the best that each can be / Come, join us in our fight

Repeat first verse. Women's Electoral Broadsheet No 26 Vol 3 April 1974


Time to Take a Stand (to the tune of 'Clementine')
from Canberra Women's Liberation

In Australia, in Australia, where abortion is a crime,
You can die of septicaemia - yes, it happens all the time.

In the city, there's a doctor, and he's making lots of dough,
And there's women, and there's crying, cause they can't afford to go.

There are others, out there frantic, while the hypocrites deride
'Have the baby, it won't hurt you', and she quietly suicides.

In a sweet church, on a green hill, Father Joseph saves a soul;
While he's praying for a foetus, another woman's dead and cold.

Foetus lover, foetus lover, can't you see the life you save
grow into a little baby, bashed and battered while you rave.

I'm a woman, and my body, must remain for me alone;
Throw your bloody laws out the window, my decisions are my own.

Contraception and abortion are just rights that we demand.
Contraception and abortion, women, time to take a stand.


Who? Me?

Chorus: La la la la
La la la la - la la.

My husband's a policeman, he says he can't afford me,
For the polish on my line the neighbours all applaud me,
When he comes home jumpy from a bash at Russell Street,
I charm him and disarm him by telling him he's sweet.

Chorus: Are you a gangster's moll, doll, Are you a gangster's moll?
La la la la, la la la la - la la.

My husband's a professor, his pay's no cause for tears
He's been giving the same lectures for fifteen years,
His latest book is selling well and adding to his fame
His lab assistants did the work but the cover bears his name.

I work for my family as the wife of a stockbroker
My daughter called him a racketeer I thought that he would choke her
I went to bed with an aching head and she came and said to me
'Profit from investment, Mum, is highway robbery'.

My husband manufactures bags he makes them out of plastic
Production is expanding at a rate that's quite fantastic
I know they cause pollution, but what's a wife to say?
He's taking me on a shopping spree and a Hong Kong holiday.

I give a dinner party when my husband does a deal
In rare Nuigini carvings with primitive appeal
Village life's decaying, you can take the things away
The last big kill on Bouganville was thanks to CRA

I'm a sales girl from Avon I go from door to door
When I get my foot inside a house where I've never been before
I say 'what lovely children'. That's the selling line
'and if you use Tahiti Cream, you'll have a lovely tan like mine'.

My bloke's a Labor member, he earns my admiration
We thought he ought, with my support, help to guide the nation
When we go on picnics with his chauffeured limousine
It mightn't be quite working class but I feel just like the queen.

I married a young lawyer, a man on power bent
He thought he ought, with my support, to be the President
The bombs rained down on field and town, many people died
I was always there with well dressed hair, smiling by his side.


Oh! Who Am I? - Beryl Carter

Oh! Who am I / What's the reason for a given life?
Am I a person, or is this all? / To be born and live and die.

Oh! Who am I / My father's daughter; my mother's child
My children's mother, my husband's wife, / But are they people, is this life?
A child, a daughter, a mother, a wife? / I am woman - But when a person?
IWD circulars 1972-1973


Woman is Moving - Glen Tomasetti

Woman is moving, woman is moving (repeat).

Won't be quiet for a silver dollar / Won't be quiet for a diamond collar
Don't believe in the sin of Eve
Don't want to be a doll in a painted face / Don't think man is God 'cause he flies in space
How many more babies will we bear into air they cannot breathe
While he makes cars and plastic trees?
Won't leave the world to aging boys / Playing with their dreadful toys
To a bitter end, there's a fitter end and we move.

So much more to do than please / Down from the pedestal, up from the knees
Man taught woman her job is to mother his heirs / Keep him erect, his socks in pairs
While he conducts the world's affairs / To a bitter end, there's a fitter end, woman is moving.

Don't want to ride in a bullock wagon / Don't want to hide in a Chinese dragon
Not going to walk along behind / A loaded gun and an empty head
The phallic thump makes a rubbish dump / To a bitter end, there's a fitter end, woman is moving.

No more hidden tears, no more hidden rage / Woman starts to disengage from all
But a few men, back, come, back, come, back, come, go, come, go come
From a bitter end, there's a fitter end, and we move.
IWD circulars 1972-1973


Sisters, Rise Up Angry (to the tune of 'What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor') - Meredith Tax, USA

6 am the eggs are fryin'
7 am the children are cryin'
Off to a low wage job that's tryin'
Sisters get together

6 pm and the dinner's fryin'
7 pm and the dishrag's dryin'
Day is done and you feel like cryin'
Sisters get together

Banks of fire, fists are shakin'
Seize the time, it's ours for takin'
Sisters, rise the dawn's a-breakin'
Sisters, rise up angry

Twelve years old and your told to wake up
TV's says put on your make-up
Passive role you've got to take up
Sisters rise together

Victims of an age old system
Dying slowly in submission
Ain't our natural condition
Sisters, rise together


United We Stand - To the Tune of Cabaret

Leave all your brushes and / leave all your brooms
Come sisters join the fray

United we stand, sisters, hand in hand
We'll have the strength this way

Together we will always be / fighting the male oppressors
Paving the way for our successors
We are undaunted / Our anger is roused
Sisterhood's here to stay.


Take the Toys from the Boys - Songs 4 Womyn from the Wimmin for Survival Newsletter

Weren't we there when they were born
Weren't we there when families were torn
Weren't we there when they went to war.

Chorus: No more war / Take the toys from the boys (3 times) / No more war.

Weren't we there when our children cried
Weren't we there when the politicians lied
Weren't we there when the soldiers died.

We are here now / The movement has begun
We are here now / When the web has been spun
We are here now / To sing our song.


The Shelter Song

People sell survival on installments door to door
A ton or so of concrete and a hole dug in your floor
It buggers up your carpets, and you ought to realize
It only means you'll suffocate instead of vaporize.

Dig yourself a cubby-hole you silly little man
You've been taken in before and you'll be taken in again
Why do you bother hiding when you must know in your hearts
You can't survive a nuclear war unless it's stopped before it starts.

You've got your plans in order for a nuclear attack
A stay of execution in your case-hardened shack
With six weeks of 'Spam', beans, and a freezer full of pies
And a pistol 'cause there might be someone else who's scared to die.

When you hear the final warning, take a deep breath
When you see the light again there'll be radiation everywhere
If you don't shit blood and vomit, and your skin don't suppurate
Just give it time, your genes are very likely to mutate.

Well Mr I'm Alright-Jack, you're a bit soft in the head
'Cause if you survive the holocaust you'll wish that you were dead.
Can't you see another way, it's right here before your eyes
We can stop the whole dam thing if we get out and organise.


Spirit of Protest (from the Spirit of Progress train)

We are living in dangerous times,
Fear and violence all around us,
But our song is a beacon, just watch how it shows,
And we won't let the darkness surround us.

Women get your walking shoes on
Get down to the tracks
'Cause we're fighting for me and you,
When that train whistle blows,
Everybody's gonna know
This is the Spirit of Protest coming through.

So many weapons in so many lands,
So many ways to say goodbye,
So much power in so few hands,
Now its time to take control of our own lives.

City to city, from ocean to sea
We'll face your policemen and your jails,
We're fighting for freedom, we're fighting for peace,
And we've got to get the world back on the rails.
Jan Testro papers University of Melbourne archives


Advance Australia Where?

Australian folks let us rejoice / for we are young and free
We'll sell uranium overseas / to boost economy.

So other races, as you die / from dread plutonium
Australia's flag will proudly fly / we'll beat you in the end.
In joyful tunes, then let us sing / Advance Australia. Where?

Old 'pig-iron Bob' sold off the scrap / to help them make some bombs,
New good old Mal sells yellow cake / to anyone who comes.

And as they choke in nuclear waste / we'll be laughing hard
We'll charge 'em more to let us store / it all in our backyard.
Oh, nuclear power, our finest hour / Advance Australia. Where?


Uranium for Us to Mine

I know a place where we can find / uranium for us to mine
Australia is just the place! / Who cares about the human race? OLE!

Dollars, dollars, dollars ... and cents ...

The government co-operates / with those that we have learnt to hate
The corporates control our fate / Unite, we must stand up and fight. OLE!

The people up in Arnham land / are threatened now to lose their land
The miners are right on hand: / Be damned it's not their bloody land! OLE!


The Wind, the Tide and the Sun

So the boys in the boardroom said "OK / We're going to mine uranium right away",
It's their Major Contribution to the Ultimate pollution / Courtesy of Wall St and CRA.

We'll all use the wind, the tide, the sun / We'll all use the wind, the tide, the sun
We're a wake up to your capers / With your miners and your rapers
So we'll all use the wind, the tide, and sun.

Uranium is a problem we must face / For it threatens to destroy the human race
They said it was the answer / but we know it gives us cancer!
How can we stop this deadly nuclear waste?


Well we're going to sell uranium to Japan / Well what about Aboriginal land?
We'll have to help our brothers / help our sisters help each other
For the sake of this uranium must be banned.


The Right is Out to Crush Your Freedom

The Right is Out to Crush Your Freedom
The Right is Out to Crush Your Freedom
The Right is Out to Crush Your Freedom
We must stop them now.


Women's Prison - Glen Tomasetti

Every day is just the same
There isn't anyone to blame
No cruelty that I can name
But you wouldn't call it living

My time'll pass so I've been told
I don't feel young, I don't feel old
I'm never hungry, never cold
But you wouldn't call it living.


Intoxicated - Toxic Shock

It makes you sick, it makes you heave,
It makes you bristle, it's difficult to breathe,
It makes you tired, it makes you ache
That Toxic Shock is so hard to take.

Johnson and Johnson - Toxic Shock.
Licence to Kill - Toxic Shock.
Let's keep quiet - Toxic Shock.
More cash in the till - Toxic Shock.

Lead Pollution - Toxic Shock.
245T - Toxic Shock.
Nuclear Pacific - Toxic Shock.
Coffee cigarettes - Toxic Shock.

We'v had herpes and cystitis,
And gonnorrhea too,
Had lots of trichamonas
As well as NSU,
But there's a new one on the market,
Your chemist stocks it too.

'Staphyllococcus auries' it's free from them to you.
Unemployment - Toxic Shock.
The 40 hour week - Toxic Shock.
The single mother's pension -Toxic Shock.
Malcolm Fraser - that's Toxic Shock.

Oh! The money they spent putting men on the moon,
And all they can offer us is feminine protection
(Care free - care less)
Toxic Shock, Toxic Shock, Toxic Shock, (scat).