Tjapaltjerri is a bush Blackfella, he travels the desert like a moving shadow
With his boomerang and spear, he's a Cleverman
He lights his fire without a match, he gets his water from a soakage not a tap
He's a Cleverman
One day he came into the settlement, he came to meet up with his relatives
And they gave him things to cover his skin
Whiteman came by car and plane, they wanted his photo, they wanted his name, They wanted a story of a primitive man.
This is a land of sixteen million, cars and cities, roads and bridges
But he's not impressed
He don't want your money, he don't want your clothes,
He don't want your gadgets, he don't want this microphone
He wants to be left alone
Whiteman's proud of his four wheel drive, he thinks he can go anywhere he likes, But he don't come close to a Cleverman
Tjapaltjarri goes to a far western plain, the is a place where they make the rain, and he sings, and he sings!
He sings a storm to drive them back, he sings a storm, they're bogged in their tracks, He's a Cleverman
Hey O, Hey O, Hey O, Hey O
Hey O, Hey O, Hey O, He's a Cleverman
You've seen him come, you've seen him go,
Who'll do that now? Who'll want to know about a Cleverman?
A full Doctor-business Man
Who'll ever see a bush Blackfella walk this country like a moving shadow?
Living strong and free and really alive?
Who'll ever see that again?
Who'll ever do that again like a Cleverman, like a Cleverman?