The Whitlams Black Stump with Pub Choir - The Day John Sattler Broke His Jaw (duo, Live 2022)

The Day John Sattler Broke His Jaw (duo, Live 2022) The Whitlams Black Stump (duo) with Pub Choir Performed by Tim Freedman, Oliver Thorpe and Pub Choir Acoustic guitar by Dana Gehrman Conducted and arranged by Astrid Jorgensen Video filmed and directed by Sleepy Mountain Films Recorded June 2022 at Fortitude Valley Music Hall, Brisbane QLD Recorded and mixed by Steve Thornely Mastered by William Bowden Written by Perry Keyes (Control) Ⓟ & © 2022 E.G. Records. All rights reserved. Buy/Download/Stream: https://ffm.to/thedayjohnsattlerbroke... Follow The Whitlams Website - https://thewhitlams.com Facebook -   / thewhitlamsofficial   Instagram -   / thewhitlams.official   Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/artist/2fczA... Apple Music -   / the-whitlams   Bandsintown - https://www.bandsintown.com/a/36685 Official merchandise - https://thewhitlams.com/shop #johnsattler #blackstump #thewhitlams #whitlams Lyrics Sunrise on the station breaks the morning’s spell Red and green streamers flyin' outside the Railway View Hotel Cleveland St shuffles shinin’ into the mighty roar We were walkin’ through the twilight the day John Sattler broke his jaw Livin’ eight to a house, post Menzies’ land of plenty But there was nothin’ left for people like us in September 1970 Some worked the Eveleigh railway yards, some worked the tanneries on the Botany shore We didn’t work the Saturday that John Sattler broke his jaw If it’s high enough, if it’s long enough, if it’s straight between the posts Drink your beer and shed no tears for these days you miss the most Every step and sill sat shinin’ in Black-It from door to door And the tears rolled down like Reschs the day John Sattler broke his jaw Saturday morning on the Botany road was mean and it was lean Rabbit killers in old Ford Falcons stallin’ through a richer man’s dream By afternoon we were jammed tight inside the hotel doors Even the T.A.B. was empty the day John Sattler broke his jaw Now in the Ladies Lounge a young girl rocks a pram An old guy downs a Flag Ale with the ghost of Dave Sands Clothes lines are flyin' high, the sun is sinkin' behind the flats As stoned girls walk in circles with their babies on their backs As big trucks roll down wide streets with heroin filled storm drains Suburban towns they turn blue and brown, use old wars for their street names They took you down to Campbelltown to Mount Druitt and St Marys As Young Labor sits stoned in a terraced house, the Sydney Swans on pay tv