Lyrics
Well Channel Nine asked about Gina's jet As if that was the news of the day Turns out Pauline flew in with the rest of us Cattle Class all the way Fair dinkum
She walked into that marble room With microphones and knives City scribes with polished smiles Waiting for the fall to arrive
But she stood there plain and steady No script and no retreat Thirty years of buried truth Laid out at their feet
They wanted sweat and panic They wanted cracks to show She gave them old-school courage The kind the battlers know
Then down came that little banner From the activist crowd She barely turned a shoulder Just kept speaking clear and loud
Childish stunts don't stop the truth When the truth is standing proud
One voice under the Southern Cross One flag against the rain One country sick of being sold Then told to smile through pain
From the mines to the mallee From the coast to the western plain Pauline stood tall in Canberra And the people felt the flame
Cattle Class courage No silver spoon no shame One voice under the Southern Cross And the battlers knew her name
She said the nation's fraying When no one guards the gate When English comes second And common sense comes late
Housing's out of reach now Power bills bite the bone Working families pay the price While the suits fly home alone
They talk in polished circles With taxpayer-funded grace She spoke like someone's mother Looking trouble in the face
They tried to twist the meaning Tried the smirk and loaded line But she cut through all their theatre With a backbone built by time
No apology No retreat No bowing to the lie
One voice under the Southern Cross One flag against the rain One country sick of being sold Then told to smile through pain
From the suburbs to the stations From the factories to the farms Pauline cut through all their noise With a battler's steady arms
Cattle Class courage No first-class alibi One voice under the Southern Cross Looking Canberra in the eye
They called it chaos called it ugly But the people watching knew She was standing in the fire While the press pack circled through
No apology no folding No retreat behind a smile Just plain words in a polished room That echoed mile by mile
And maybe that's the thing they hate More than anything she said She speaks the words they bury And the crowd still nods its head
One voice under the Southern Cross One nation rising still One country counting every cost From the harbour to the hill
Let them sneer and let them slander Let them laugh from near and far Pauline Hanson spoke for Australia In that Press Club hall of glass
Cattle Class courage No silver spoon no shame One voice under the Southern Cross And the battlers knew her name
One voice under the Southern Cross One flag against the rain Cattle Class courage in Canberra And the battlers heard her name
Cattle Class courage One voice One fight One country
And the battlers heard every word