Kirra Dawn - Great Southern Land (Offizielles Musikvideo)

The needle digs into black vinyl, and the desert breaks out of the boxes. My kingdom is the console, surrounded by flickering LEDs and fleeting glances. But under the four-four beat of the house, under the synthetic sweat of the club, another heart beats. It beats to the rhythm of a red, ancient country.

The smoke turns into dust, the dancing silhouettes become ghosts in the Mallee scrub. In my mix, the truth hides like a petrified river under asphalt. She whispers in the silence between the beats: *Walywalya*. A language I don't speak, a song I know. They asphalted the dreams, enclosed the soul in galleries and called it progress.

My hands slide over the crossfaders, not to stun, but to awaken. I weave the call of the didgeridoo into the synthesizer, the heartbeat of the country into the digital pulse. It's not a crime to sing your name, *Great Southern Land*. It's my duty.

In this neon-lit dark I remember. The future is not a ready-made track. She is a remix - harsh, bright and true. It starts here, in the hands of a DJ who has decided to mix no longer just sounds, but stories. The last note fades away, a single, resonant note from the deepest time.

*Remember.*

Lyrics

The vinyl spins a desert heat, a phantom in the speakers’ hum.
My kingdom is this booth tonight, but my heart beats to a different drum.
I chase the bass through city lights, a concrete sea that’s cold and deep,
But in the smoke, my memory keeps a promise that I have to keep.
It’s a picture burned behind my eyes: red earth under endless blue,
A whispered truth I never knew, a song I’m meant to give to you.

Oh, Great Southern Land, sleeping giant in the sand.
They paved your dreaming, sold your soul, and called it progress, took control.
The ancient whispers in the trees are carried on a dying breeze.
Is it a crime to sing your name, to fight the silence and the shame?
Great Southern Land… your story’s in my hands.

I mix the tracks, I blend the beats, for feet that move but never feel.
They lost the map to what is real, beneath the weight of wheel and steel.
The gallery walls hold stolen grace, a culture locked behind a glass,
A language fading fast, so fast… a light that’s flickering past.
*Walywalya…* (a whisper in the mix) The old ones cry, a haunting fix.
This is the truth the playlist hides, the fracture deep where spirit bides.

Oh, Great Southern Land, sleeping giant in the sand.
They paved your dreaming, sold your soul, and called it progress, took control.
The ancient whispers in the trees are carried on a dying breeze.
Is it a crime to sing your name, to fight the silence and the shame?
Great Southern Land… your story’s in my hands.

This is my freedom. This is my call.
Not to conquer, but to recall.
The art is in the river’s run, the story told by setting sun.
To not look back? *That’s* the crime.
To ignore the heartbeat of all time.
So let the synthesizers scream, and let me build you from a dream…
A different future, stark and bright, born in the disco’s neon light.

Oh, Great Southern Land, *wake up*, giant in the sand!
We’ll rewrite the dreaming, save your soul, and take back the story, make it whole!
The whispers are a ROAR in the trees, a power rising on the breeze!
It is our DUTY to sing your name, to end the silence and the shame!
Great Southern Land… your future’s in our hands.

My freedom’s in the truth I spin…
The land where end and start begin…
*Walywalya… ngatha…*
Remember.

Lyrics written Kai-Dominik Bertha (ELAG ERFURT)

Copyright by Radio PTR

Radio PTR Inc. Slowakei
Most SNP, 851 01 Bratislava

#australien #dancevideo #song

• Kvalita: Full HD HD NQ LQ
• Zverejnené: 12.5.2026 19:34
• Krajina: Austrália 🇦🇺
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• Dľžka: 5:14
• Kategória: hudba
• Tagy: dance, trance, pop.disco, song, austrália