redwing
Slim Dusty Lyrics


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There once was an Indian maid,
A shy little prairie maid,
Who sang a lay, a love song gay,
As on the plain she whiled away the day;
She loved her warrior bold,
This shy little maid of old,
Who brave and gay, one day rode away
To a battle far away.

Now, the moon shines tonight on pretty Redwing
The breeze is sighing, the night bird′s crying,
For afar 'neath the stars her brave is sleeping,

While Redwing′s weeping her heart away.
Instrumental
She watched for him day and night,
She kept the campfires bright,
As under the sky, each night she would lie,
And dream about his coming by and by;
But when the braves returned,
Oh the heart of Redwing yearned,
For far, far away, her warrior gay,
Fell bravely in the fray.
Now, the moon shines tonight on pretty Redwing
The breeze is sighing, the night bird's crying,

For afar 'neath the stars her brave is sleeping,
While Redwing′s weeping her heart away.

Now, the moon shines tonight on pretty Redwing
The breeze is sighing, the night bird′s crying,




For afar 'neath the stars her brave is sleeping,
While Redwing′s weeping her heart away

Overall Meaning

"Redwing" is a song that was written in the 1900s by Kerry Mills and Thurland Chattaway. The song is about a young Native American woman who is in love with a brave warrior. She spends her days singing and dreaming of her lover, who has gone off to battle. Redwing continues to wait for him, keeping the campfires burning every night as she watches and waits for his return. However, when the braves return without him, Redwing's heart fills with sorrow, as she learned that her warrior had died in battle.


The lyrics are powerful and evoke strong emotions of sadness, longing, and loss. The use of nature and the moon in the lyrics further emphasize the sorrowful mood of the song. The moon symbolizes the passage of time and highlights Redwing's loneliness in waiting, while the breeze and night bird's cries represent the natural world mourning with her. The song serves as a tribute to the love and sacrifice of many Native American women who waited for their loved ones to return from battle, and mourned when they did not.


Line by Line Meaning

There once was an Indian maid,
This story is about an indigenous woman


A shy little prairie maid,
She was timid and reserved


Who sang a lay, a love song gay, As on the plain she whiled away the day;
She enjoyed singing love songs while spending time on the prairie


She loved her warrior bold, This shy little maid of old, Who brave and gay, one day rode away To a battle far away.
She was in love with a brave warrior who went off to fight a distant battle


She watched for him day and night, She kept the campfires bright, As under the sky, each night she would lie, And dream about his coming by and by;
She anxiously waited for his return, keeping the fires burning and dreaming of his arrival


But when the braves returned, Oh the heart of Redwing yearned, For far, far away, her warrior gay, Fell bravely in the fray.
When the warriors returned, she learned that her lover had died honorably in battle


Now, the moon shines tonight on pretty Redwing The breeze is sighing, the night bird′s crying, For afar 'neath the stars her brave is sleeping, While Redwing′s weeping her heart away.
Redwing is grieving her lost love, while the moon, breeze, and night birds witness her sorrow


Now, the moon shines tonight on pretty Redwing The breeze is sighing, the night bird's crying, For afar 'neath the stars her brave is sleeping, While Redwing′s weeping her heart away.
Her sorrow continues through the night, as she remains inconsolable




Writer(s): Kerry Mills (dp), Sammy Rimmington, Thurland Chattaway (dp)

Contributed by Sophie G. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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You say you belong to Australia my friend
And rightly you’d die for this land to defend
But let us be honest, it’s sad but it’s true
Australia my friend doesn’t belong to you

Our country’s been sold by the powers that be
To big wealthy nations way over the sea
We couldn’t be taken by bayonets or lead
And so they decided to buy us instead

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The widows, the crippled, the ones that were killed
And I often wonder if their ghosts can see
What’s happening now to their native country

I wonder if ghosts of the fallen can see
The crime and corruption and vast poverty
With a lost generation of youth on the dole
Who drift on life’s ocean without any goal

I once had a dream of our country so grand
The rivers outback irrigated the land
With towns and canals in that wasteland out there
And big inland cities with work everywhere

With profit from farming and factory and mine
Was used to develop a nation so fine
Then I woke from my dream into reality
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