Chords
Native Born Albert Namatjira

Key: E

Introduction:

E                                                              A  
Albert Namatjira painted not so much the things he saw
          E                                                                                                                                    B7  
But what he felt inside and how he loved the Flinders Range
          E                                                                            A  
The only thing he ever wanted the reason that he painted for
                        E                                                                            B7                                      E  
Was that everybody share the dream his land would never change
                                                                                                                                A  
Ah But change it did and through the years they introduced some foreign plants
     E                                                                                                                                                    B7  
Familiar things are strange while strangers play upon the lawn
          E                                                                                         A  
And mother land has shed her tears for lives that never stood a chance
          E                                                                    B7                                                    E  
And Albert Namatjira cried, as we all cry the Native Born
        B7                                                                            A  
So bow your head old eucalypt and wattle tree
     E                                            B7                            E  
Australia's bush is losing it's identity
                          B7                                                                                            A  
While the cities and the parks that they have planned
                                                                                                                             E  
Look out of place because the spirit's in the land
             A                                                                                                            E  
Look out of place because the spirit's in the land
                                                                                        A  
Do you remember Joseph Banks who stood upon this sacred earth
          E                                                                                                                      B7  
And what he felt inside when he looked around and saw
          E                                                                                            A  
the land to whom we give our thanks our mother land who's given birth
        E                                                                                      B7                         E  
To trees and plants and animals he'd never seen before?
        B7                                                                            A  
So bow your head old eucalypt and wattle tree
     E                                            B7                            E  
Australia's bush is losing it's identity
                          B7                                                                                            A  
While the cities and the parks that they have planned
                                                                                                                             E  
Look out of place because the spirit's in the land
             A                                                                                                            E  
Look out of place because the spirit's in the land
                                                                                                  A  
But no one knows or no one hears the way we used to sing and dance
          E                                                                                                                                                      B7  
And how the gum trees stood and stretched to greet the golden morn
          E                                                                                                 A  
and mother land still sheds her tears for lives that never stood a chance
          E                                                                 B7                                                    E  
And Albert Namatjira cried as we all cry the native born
        B7                                 E  
We cry the native born