Uploaded August 2021 | Updated September 2026, 1 hour ago

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Sung by Mitchell Burnside Clapp. Thanks to rocketman0739 for providing high-quality versions of these songs.
Download the album here: archive.org/details/filk_unreal_estate
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Lyrics:

They sent him up from Sydney on a seven-year,
One more reluctant pioneer
With a past that wasn't quite within the law.
They put him in a cell to do his time,
Set him working in a mine
Where greyish clinging dust was all he saw.

When his time was done, in the rock he stayed;
For one more time he'd been betrayed,
By his body and a lower gravity.
And the busker singing in the corridor,
He played a song he'd heard before—
It went: “Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”

Spacesuits patched with tape and twine,
Selling drills, his own design,
A trail of regrets to mark where he had been.
And his home hung neatly centered in the airlock's porthole door
An endless black, a distant dream of green.

An exile now from gravity,
No friends to the authority,
He made a life beneath a league of stone.
He married well and raised a son
(The only worthwhile thing he'd done),
Today he doesn't feel so much alone.

To put the tucker on the plate,
These days, you'll see him navigate
A bus across a desert lunar sea,
And the line runs around inside his head—
Was it something that his father said?
It goes: “Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”

Billabong's just a frozen pond a hundred meters down
The squatter drives a thoroughbred of steel
And if he runs forever, would his life be all in vain?
At least, that's how it makes him feel.
Still the line runs around inside his head
Was it something that his father said?
It goes: “Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”

“Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”

And the busker singing in the corridor,
He plays a song he's heard before—
It goes: “Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”