Long before the motorcar or telegraphic wires
When England not just ruled the waves but ruled over our lives
California fever had spread around the globe
A rush to waiting sailing ships ‘ye travellers all aboard’
Destination a southern nation across the southern seas
A land where rivers gleamed with gold, a land of hope and dreams
Where poverty and bitterness could all be left behind
Foreign men with nothing but fortunes yet to find some day
Some day, some day

Ballarat on early morn’ Eureka days of old
A story true and moving tells of courage I am told
When just a hint of dawn began to spread across the sky
A motley crew of miners took a stand prepared to die
And swore under the Southern Cross to fight for liberty
To stand for justice one and all and set the nation free
Against all odds, against the laws, oppressive to extreme
The miners swore under the stars and paid in blood to dream
That day, that day, that day

Troopers slaughtered all who dared to claim democracy
They cut down every living soul who tried to even flee
Surprised and overrun by forces loyal to the Crown
To no avail the miners stood their ground, most everyone
Among the brave and bleeding soon to count among the dead
A nameless man with mortal wounds inflicted to his head
Had held his pike, had held against King’s horses and King’s men
Had held his pike defiantly right to the bitter end
That day, that day, that day

The Pikeman, let us call him John, he tried to hold the line
With other men of courage who now knew that it was time
As bullet, bayonet and sword all found their chosen mark
As forces loyal to royalty laid siege in morning dark
And as the nameless pikeman lay there dying on the ground
His only friend beside him, just a scruffy little hound
Who howled and growled at any who did dare to take away
His master and a hero, who took his final breath
That day, that day, that day

The tiny dog, a terrier, cried out so plaintively
A loyal friend right to the end, for God and all to see
He sat upon his master’s chest, his howls were heard by all
Right on the spot where on that day courageous men did fall
And soon after John’s body had been tossed upon a cart
Piled upon the many who’d been stabbed right through the heart
Man’s best friend then leapt aboard, for none could drag away
The dog right by his master’s side, a legend born that day
That day, that day, that day

No one ever saw or heard the pikeman’s dog again
No one ever named the graves of all the fallen men
Most likely put down in cold blood with graveyard digger’s spade
The bravest little Terrier beside his master’s grave

December three, lest we forget, in eighteen fifty four
Liberty and justice finally made it to our shores
Political decrees of greed, of power and of Kings
Had forced the miners to rebel, a stockade bunkered in
That day, that day, that day

On quiet nights when all the stars are spread across the sky
The Southern Cross still shines on all the souls of those who died
In unmarked graves, not far from where democracy was born
Not far from where they swore an oath of loyalty at dawn
For every little thing we have was fought for years ago
By those who dared to stand up for the freedoms that we know
What fragments of democracy we boldly call our rights
We owe a debt of gratitude to those who held the pikes
That day, that day, that day

What does it take, to take a stand, and march against the tide
Of apathy and ignorance, the mark of modern times
Some of us remember, shame on those who do forget
Shame on politicians who’ve not learned the lesson yet
Shame on all the people who don’t recognise the flag
Yet bask in all the glory and the benefits they have
Eureka is our history, don’t let it slip away
For once again we’re ruled by iron fist as on that day
That day, that day, that day
That day, that day, that day