Grandfather went panning for gold
Gold Rush in the country called Hill End
End of grandma's freedom was told
Grandpa's gold to his brother's would send

The white men had the blacks for maids
After gold, Aboriginals filled the whites needs
Grandma cooked for Pop, her tribal life fades
Pop married her amongst the high grass weeds

After three months of panning, he smiled
Left Hill End and dragged my Nana home
Nana taken from her tribe, Pop his claim filed
Mean to Nana, except he bought her a comb

Taking her from family, she cried
Cried for her people and her way of life
Children born to nana, pushed aside
He wanted white children, caused her strife

Tambaroora creek gold was spent
Men and women packed their kit
Left Hill End, heavy pockets dent
Gold had gone, men exhausted but fit

Pop took Nana back to Sydney Town
She, lost amongst the white fur
He gave her a white woman's frown
She looked at them, they shunned her

He gave her nothing, except whites' dress
Had three children, it was his right
Her black children. What a sad mess
For years she served him day and night

When he was out, she was a tribal wife
As children we sat at her large brown feet
Stories of her Home Hill tribal life
Her face shone with love, sat on seat

One day she had a bad fall, he didn't care
Bleeding within for days, Doctor came to see
Gave her Panadol we could only stare
Nana bled to death in three days, agony she

I never forgave him, my sister didn't speak
When I was a grown woman I loathed his face
Nana at least was at peace, Pop had a nasty streak
He died without remorse, dying at his own pace