We of course use music and song in a whole heap of other ways. The old people used to talk about singing someone, and you could sing someone to death or you could sing someone for love. So music is a magic tool as well. And I think even now, there's many people, irrespective of race, creed, or colour, who fall in love because of a song, or are reminded of great love or great moments in their life. Some people are reminded with classical music, some with contemporary music, some with jazz, and all of the other styles. I like all of them. I use music with my kids, so I use the arts a lot with my kids. I write songs about them. I write poetry about them, and I share it. Sometimes I write a song and I don't play if to anyone, and I just let it go, like a gift to the world. And sometimes I write them for me, a song I wrote about my sister passing is a song that's been sung in plays, in films, nothing too famous. And it talks about that amazing grief that we face when we lose someone that we love dearly. What that song taught me, and the journey of my life, is that grief is fundamentally, love. So music teaches and gives a gift on a multitude of levels, and it's got many, many uses. Another perspective or way to describe parts of my perspective as an aboriginal man, and as a man, is that music is a form of energy. Now when a tree, I was a taught, when a tree falls over in the bush and dies, the energy changes shape. That tree becomes a home for animals. You might find a possum living in there, or a snake, and lots of bugs. And then it becomes food for white ants, or termites. It changes shape, so its energy changes shape again and again. And it changes shape into being coal in a diamond. And even if you burn that tree, it becomes a light that never goes out. And that's just in this dimension. Aboriginal people believe there's many dimensions, so music is a tool in that regard. And it can heal, it can hurt, and it can light a direction. And we practice it in the Western Eurocentric culture everyday without realising it. A lot of people listen to a song and say, wow, that's my life. A lot of people play a song to heal, to get over a heartbreak, a death, to get over a moment of anger. The band Latin Alliance, which when they came out in the 90s were banned in America. But they used their voice, their artistic voice, their songs, to illustrate the disproportionate equity within the American system. So they represented Latinos, they represented all of these cultures that were marginalised, that didn't fit through the access point to wealth and power. We see the same thing here in Australia with the Aboriginal people. We have great artist Kev Carmody who is one of my great inspirations who writes songs about cultural interpretation on a whole heap of levels. And he gets very excited because the young people sometimes record his songs with a contemporary perspective, but at the same time, they have the essence of the song coming out of their lips. So they're talking in old man's words, sorry Kev, in a contemporary setting. And other people have recorded his songs, everyone from Paul Kelly, Missy Higgins, John Butler, Troy Cassar-Daily, Archie Roach. All on the one album, Sarah Storer, and they're brilliant messages. Other inspirations, a lady, she's passed now, Carol Frazier, who's a great jazz musician. A large personality, a woman who was an incredible character, and gave music to the world. Another man who's passed, Zac Martin, who was Portland’s, which it was a town of about 8,000 people, Portland's first busker (street performer). And he was black as the ace of spades and used to tell ghost stories in between his songs and terrify us kids. He died incidentally, I am told, swimming the Brisbane River on the run from the police. But he was also in a television series called Super Boong, and he was a superhero. But he went to get changed as mild mannered reporter. He went into the pub to get changed, and Aboriginals weren't allowed in the pub. So what is song to me ultimately? It's a great gift. And it's a gift that I get given, and that I give to the world when I can. Mama They took my land away Mama I don’t know what to say But I picked up my gun this morning Loaded bullets too It’s time I took a stand Gonna fight for me and for you Gonna fight Gonna fight Mama I’ll fight for me and you I’ll fight for me and you and Mama I found my sister They had, had taken her away Well I found my baby sister Didn’t know what to say It’s time I took a stand Gonna fight til their judgment day Gonna fight Gonna fight til their judgement day.