I begin by acknowledging the Ngunnawal people. I thank them for their strong and continuing stewardship. The first word I heard in this place was Aunty Matilda House-Williams saying 'Welcome'. Matilda meant it, and I've always felt welcome on Ngunnawal traditional lands over the last 18 years. The second word I heard here was 'sorry'. Kevin Rudd's small word echoed big all around the nation and all around the world. It was long overdue and vital for us to recognise the manifest wrongs committed against our First Nations peoples. That word 'sorry' improved our international standing. So I heard 'welcome' and 'sorry' on my first day—and my best day—in parliament. I'm forever thankful that Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard and Jenny Macklin made that apology to the stolen generations happen.

Since that first day, Uncle Pat Dodson spoke of the oldest art on earth being Aboriginal works in Western Australia; Aunty Linda Burney talks of the oldest constructions in the world being Koori fish traps at Brewarrina; and my almost-cousin-in-law Marion Scrymgour has also helped guide me through our nation's duality. I once taught English for 11 years, but now I know that the oldest words on earth are Aboriginal words.

The old and the new, the black and the white, the then and the now and the everywhen. Pat, Linda, Marion and so many other First Nations colleagues and friends like Peter Brown and Wayne Long in St George—if you're listening—have helped me better understand our past. What Australian wouldn't be proud of such a rich history? Our 'then' improves the 'now' and uplifts all our tomorrows. Today, Prime Minister Albanese delivered the seventeenth Closing the Gap speech. As he said, there is much work to be done, but I know that our nation's future will always be brighter when truly reconciled with our past.

Yates says, 'Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart', but I know that our First Nations peoples are hopeful despite all. Most know how to hope without bitterness. When I was first a candidate, I remember a myopic prime minister who refused to say sorry. John Howard even accused those who spoke the truth of having a 'Black Armband view of history'. At least armbands let people see the future; a white blindfold shows them nothing. And where there is no vision, the people perish. What is right will always outlast the denial of our history. Fighting flags and other divisive culture wars are not the answer. This place doesn't need any more flag inspectors. There is serious work to be done in our nation, as the Prime Minister and the opposition leader detailed today. There is work to be done in our schools, in our workplaces, in our prisons and, most of all, in our hearts.

So, in this, my final speech, I propose a word to sit alongside those first, big words like 'welcome' and 'sorry'. The word that I humbly offer is 'soon'. 'Soon' doesn't mean I seek another referendum or a vote on an advisory body. 'Soon' is simply to reassure all First Nations mob that the Labor Party won't ever forget you. I say 'soon' because we believe in a nation with justice and dignity at its core and 'soon' because Labor has a positive vision for our nation.

I say 'soon' in the context of 100,000 years of history and the everywhen, that Indigenous concept of time where the past, present and future are all interconnected. Sometimes those opposite try to distract you from their perfidy; they weaponise our very democracy and the idea of a First Nations advisory body or makarrata or treaty. But hope and love will trump fear and division—soon. Right now, I'm proud to stand in front of that Murri flag. I don't want to obliterate 60,000 years of history; I want to celebrate it. I do so because I'm a patriotic Australian who knows our nation's history. No leader can prepare for the future if they're busy running from the past. One of those flags up there comes from Queensland, from the Torres Strait; that's a long way from here. Some people don't realise how big Queensland is or how far away the Torres Strait is. Queensland is larger than about 183 countries—and we're also weirder than 183 other countries, with respect!

The first black feet ever to set foot on this continent did so in Queensland, about 5,000 generations ago—the first white foot too, a Dutch sailor, Willem Janszoon, in 1606, up near Weipa in Far North Queensland. And Queensland is where Lieutenant James Cook first raised his flag to claim present-day Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria and Tasmania for the British crown. We were nearly 60 years ahead of Fremantle and Hindmarsh claiming Western Australia and South Australia, respectively. My point is that Queensland is different. We know how to lead the way, like we did with Eddie Mabo and native title. Adversity helps us bend towards a greater truth. And despite the recent referendum result, I know that our Constitution—this little document—will eventually include our First Nations people. Our country needs the truth writ large rather than lies writ small.

The Constitution, remember, was an act of the British parliament, passed by white British men with beards in Westminster. One day, soon, our Constitution will be amended by the modern men and women of Australia. I remind those opposite that every election day our nation divides. But it is not a tear. Tears are sometimes shed, but it is not a tear. Australian democracy is a zip, and at 6 pm, upon the counting of ballot boxes, the nation clicks right back together, irrespective of the results. Waging a fear campaign against this healthy democratic division is a failure to fundamentally understand Australians. We are much smarter politically than that. We're not scared of ballots or uncomfortable truths. In the Voice referendum, the coalition campaigned on 'vote no and get nothing', and that's exactly what they delivered. Of course, I respect the democratic decision of the public, because I'm passionate about democracy, and I believe in democracy. But I also believe in justice.

'Soon' in the context of 5,000 generations does not mean tomorrow, but soon is better than never. Soon we will have a reconciled nation; that change is going to come. I know this because 6,286,889 people voted yes on 14 October 2023. In Moreton, in my multicultural community, 49.32 per cent voted yes. In the 16 months since, there have been more 'yes' voters born and arriving, while 'no' voters are slowly but surely fading away. A change is going to come, not now but soon.

While we're talking about changing this document, a constitutional change, the Republican part of me requires some little placation. I will do that rather than talk about negative gearing or franking credits. I was at a citizenship ceremony in Brisbane in late November, standing next to a life-sized portrait of King Charles III. I love citizenship ceremonies. They're the best part of my job as an MP. Normally, I do them with Lewis Lee, who's sitting up in the gallery there. But, standing there, as someone who had Queen Elizabeth on the English throne for 57 years, I realised that there's only space for one monarch in Queensland, and my one true king will always be Wally Lewis. A change is going to come. When Arthur Phillip arrived in Sydney Harbour with 11 ships filled with convicts, it was only five years after the American War of Independence and just 18 months before the French revolution kicked off—that Sydney Cove experiment sandwiched between crucial revolution, with fervour for change, and dangerous ideas like freedom and equality bookending our convict chains.

Eventually, the United States would help deliver our 'Washminster' system of government, where we have senators not lords—except you, Murray, obviously! As 'Graham Perret', I think our nation also has a debt to the French and their notion of liberty, egality and fraternity. There are so many reasons to be a republic, including the one million Australians with Chinese links or the million Indian Australians, like my wife's family; the Afghan cameleers and Italians—even the Italians' Prime Minister—the Germans and Vietnamese; the Koreans, Somalis and Sudanese; and all those other connections that make our nation the tastiest salad on earth. Tony Burke told me 20 years ago that, unlike melting pots, salads protect the individual flavours of all ingredients. And salads are healthier too apparently. My Italian, Irish and French tangled roots don't define the tree; Australian soil lets each tree grow their own way. So I refuse to believe that no Australian is good enough to be our head of state. It won't ever be easy to change this document. I know that. But the harder fought the better won.

I know it has been a while, but after three words, 'welcome', 'sorry' and 'soon', I now turn to some thanks. I start with my wife, Lea, the woman who talked me into joining the Labor Party because she was sick of me whinging about John Howard. Thanks for putting up with me, Lea, through thick and thin—not as thin as you would like, but still. At the Class of '07 baby-MP talk, we were told that 85 per cent of federal marriages fail due to long periods away from home, too many drinks and night-time shenanigans. Sadly, I've missed all of that, although, once, late at night in Manuka, Darren Chester did offer me a lift home. We'll never know how things might've worked out, Darren!

Seriously, Lea, I'm the luckiest bloke in the world to avoid that 85 per cent. It helps that I started with a wife who's smart, tough and funny, and a delicious dollop of beautiful as well. Thanks for raising our wonderful boys, Stanley, who's at work, and Leo, while kicking off your own amazing legal career. At best, I was a part-time assistant. I remember once when the COMCAR pulled up into our driveway in Morooka after a fun week in Canberra—with Darren!—and you were pushing a kid's mattress out the upstairs window. Gracefully, you yelled out: 'Graham, hose the vomit off this mattress, and put it out in the sunshine, and get up here and help with your bloody kids.' Speaker, I'm just checking—Lea doesn't have a right of reply or anything, does she? Anyway, like every MP with young kids, I nearly got back in that COMCAR. But I didn't, because you're my big, big love and you taught me that even the running kind can learn how to stay. Lea, thanks also for reminding me constantly that I was a part of the Labor government that abolished the $5,000 baby bonus while you were pregnant with Leo! I look forward to us both being under the same roof rather than working 1,000 miles from home and 2,000 miles from each other.

Stanley was here for my first speech. He was up in that top gallery, a babe in his mother's arms. He's now at work and uni, and his younger brother, Leo, is here today—both growing into fine young men who are caring and kind. Most men either try to live up to their father's expectations or attempt to make up for their failures. I'm certainly in the latter camp, but I do sometimes wonder what camp my boys will be in. I've heard many politicians say in their valedictory speeches that they're leaving to spend more time with their families. Well, I've checked with the Prime Minister—and Leo, that's not compulsory!

I love you both very much, Stanley and Leo, and I look forward to watching where you put your oversized feet out in the world. Whatever paths you choose, remember the golden rules of our household: (1) be kind, (2) work hard and (3) vote Labor all your life. Also hello to my sisters, Kerry and Megan; you're both still nurrigar. Hi to my friends, Annie, Phyllida and Chris, who are listening in the United States. Go Eagles.

The majority of Queensland MPs in the 42nd Parliament were Labor—15 out of 29. Sadly, we let the nation down recently at the last election. There are four party leaders from Queensland, and I acknowledge two of them sitting here. Sadly, none of those four Queensland party leaders have a positive plan for our nation. It does look tough for Queensland Labor right now, but that is when my state's true character shines through.

In the late 1800s, when employers were crushing worker dissent, the shearers at Barcaldine formed a political party. Soon after, in 1899, Queensland delivered the first Labor government anywhere in the world. When Joh and his gerrymander were outlawing street protests and dissent in the seventies, the Saints responded by delivering punk to the world. Eddie Mabo's truth showed terra nullius to be a lie and then Paul Keating delivered native title to our nation. Some people think that north of the Tweed is a conservative state, but we actually have a radical heart. I know Queenslanders will come through at the next election, starting with Julie-Ann Campbell in Moreton and a few others around.

I'll be working hard to make sure that happens, as will the wonderful Labor volunteers in Moreton—

An honourable member: Did you say Gorton?

Mr PERRETT: Moreton, not Gorton. No. There are way too many people to mention, but I thank them for turning out at pre-poll and on election day, for doorknocking, for phone calls, for doing visibility and for chatting to friends and neighbours about the mighty Labor Party's positive plan for this nation.

Thank you to all my campaign directors, Jo Justo, Karen Struthers, the fearless Ros McLennan, the always astute Terry Wood, Julie-Ann Campbell, and, finally, the woman who is the heart and soul of the progressive Labor party on the south side of Brisbane, my good friend Sasha Marin, who is sitting in the advisers' block. In my opinion, Sasha's the best thing to ever come out of Lightning Ridge, and that includes opals.

When I was first elected, there was no NBN or NDIS, schools weren't fairly funded and the perils of climate change were largely being ignored. I'm proud that Labor provided Australians with high-speed internet access, Labor created the world-first disability insurance scheme, we are implementing the Gonski education reforms, we introduced Commonwealth paid parental leave and Labor enshrined net zero emissions by 2050—and I could go on.

All those reforms are due to Moreton volunteers like Alannah, Sasha and others like them, led by Ros, Sasha and Terry. Thank you all. In every one of my campaigns, I've received great assistance from the trade union movement. From the CFMEU, the UWU, the meaties, the QTU, the QIEU—my union—but especially Rohan, Anne Marie, Angus and the others at the amazing AMWU. Thank you, comrades, one and all. The unity of labour is the hope of the world. It was true in Barcaldine back in 1891, and it's still true today, while political parties trot out leaders who masquerade as hard men and friends of the poor.

There's a great line in one of my favourite movies, Matewan.

… there ain't but two sides in this world—them that work and them that don't.

And I'm proud to be on the side of the workers. I believe the Labor party is the political wing of the union movement. If we ever lose this core purpose, we will be set adrift. I've seen up close what happens to a party when it is led by a soulless shapeshifter with no moral core. That way destruction lies. Labor must keep union values in our heart and our industrial comrades right alongside. This combination can achieve a fairer Australian society.

The modern union movement looks like modern Australia: people like Sally McManus, Michele O'Neil, Wendy Streets—who I think is in the gallery—and Ged Kearney, to name just a few. They're the modern unionists. And I give a special shout-out to the class of 2000 organising work graduates—there's one and there's another—Mary Doyle and Senator Lisa Darmanin. Three from the one class in federal parliament must surely be a record.

In my first speech I talked about bringing a bit more poetry into parliament. This isn't something I've always managed in every one of my TLAB speeches, but there is a verse from that tragic Australian poet Adam Lindsay Gordon that I've loved ever since high school:

Life is merely froth and bubble,

Two things stand in stone,

KINDNESS in another's trouble,

COURAGE in your own …

I haven't always been as kind as I could nor as courageous as I needed to be, but I've done my best. So, to all of my staff past and present, who have put up with my lack of kindness and/or courage, I say, 'Thank you,' especially to Sasha Marin, my chief of staff; Lee Lunney; Michelle Howe, who's also sitting over in the advisers box; Isaac Cavanagh, also over in the box—don't you have work to do, you three?—and Peter Shaw, who has been with me for 18 years and, in that time, has never once laughed at my jokes!

To Kane, Kylie, Kate, Norma, Matt, Michelle, Sarah, Ben, Jen, Sandy and Angus, and so many other wonderful people: thanks for looking out for the light on the hill in Moreton. I know that Jules Campbell will tend the same flame with a little bit of help from you, not because we ask you to but because you believe you must, because you all believe in providing kindness during another's trouble. So thank you all.

I thank all the MPs and senators who've helped out in Moreton over the years, especially Tanya Plibersek, Mark Dreyfus, Brendan O'Connor, Penny Wong and Murray Watt, for their friendship, guidance and good humour. To my good friend and neighbour Jim Chalmers: I still vividly recall all the doors we've knocked on together and the good times we've had at the Sunnybank tavern after eating way too much at the Landmark. Thank you, Jim.

Thanks to you too, Mr Speaker, for the many events we've shared, and also to Senator Anthony Chisholm—who I'm not sure is here—who when he was state secretary was prepared to take on organised motorcycle gangs and their supporters in Moreton. You ask him about it. That was during that most difficult of elections in 2013 when Labor lost 17 seats but in Moreton we actually received a swing to me. Thanks, Chis.

To all the voters in Moreton who were prepared to support Labor throughout the last seven elections, I say thank you. All MPs think their electorates are special, but multicultural Moreton really is. The word 'privilege' is thrown around a lot, but I do feel privileged to have represented all my different communities. I'm proud of how we work together, how we've taken the time to listen to each other's points of view and how we've learnt from each other—how we share cultural and religious celebrations and stay connected despite our differences. This occurs because of the generosity of people like Lewis Lee OAM, who's up in the gallery next to Jocelyn. I'm well paid to do my job, but Lewis is a volunteer, as his lovely wife, Jocelyn, can attest. Lewis leads by example. He has managed 61 citizenship ceremonies and fosters important community connections by promoting and attending cross-cultural events. Our country needs more people like Lewis. They are the glue that holds us together.

And to those who could never bring themselves to vote for me: I can't tell you how much I appreciated working for you, despite having parliamentary privilege!

There are so many great friends and good comrades in the Moreton community and the Labor caucus. There are too many good people to mention, so it would be easier if I only mention the bad ones! You're first, Rob Mitchell—no, just kidding! Where's Josh Wilson, who flogged me at tennis again this morning? It's especially lucky that my good friend Nick Champion has left the parliament, but I take this opportunity to mention that, despite a once furious media report to the contrary, I always beat Nick Champion when we played squash. On several occasions, the gymnasium staff asked us to stop swearing loudly, and I assert that all the foul language was exclusively Nick Champion's!

In another class of '07 valedictory speech, Bill Shorten tabled a list of all of his 192 staff to avoid reading them all into Hansard. So, in a similar spirit, I table the names of all the people I've injured on the football, rugby, touch football, basketball and netball courts by playing too enthusiastically—your name's on there, Ed; don't worry! So I'll table that. But, to be fair, 28 of the names on this list are Keith Wolahan's!

I do particularly thank Andy Turnbull for making so much sporting diplomacy and cross-party friendship possible in this place. Sport is a great way to make unusual friendships and international connections that are useful for this nation. Those contacts all help lubricate the gears of our wonderful democracy. Early morning sport also gets you into bed early, because nothing good happens in Canberra after midnight, and I say that with all respect to Darren Chester!

Thanks to all the co-chairs of the parliamentary friendship groups I've been involved with over the last 18 years. I have enjoyed working with Rowan Ramsey, Ken Wyatt and Judi Moylan to fight diabetes. Similarly, I have enjoyed championing the Red Cross, Amnesty, anti death penalty, support for Palestine, education and arts groups—especially arts groups—and several countries.

The diplomats and lobbyists who work in Canberra to ensure that politicians are better informed do a good job. Declared, registered lobbyists can make for better policy decisions. As long as there is no secrecy, I believe that they are an important part of this fragile, beautiful thing called democracy.

I especially want to mention the Parliamentary Friends of LGBTQIA+ Australians group that I helped form with Warren Entsch and Senator Sarah Hanson-Young a long time ago. I know it's in good hands. But, with my good friend and comrade Louise Pratt and Warren leaving soon, I am concerned that the 48th Parliament might not be ready for the US-style attacks directed at the trans community. In Queensland, in fact, some might say those attacks are already here. Bullies and fascists always seek small groups to target. They are not alone in seeking out the trans community in this way, trying to turn real people into an 'other'. Remember that Jesus Christ is no weathervane. He loves all people always, not some people sometimes. He loves they and them and even you. If some politicians have become obsessed with how kids go to the loo, maybe it is time to leave the cult and go see a therapist. Dehumanising due to differences is a pathway to hell. It hollows out communities wherever it occurs, everywhere from Yeppen to Yeppoon.

Sometimes bathrooms, pronouns and flags are merely political dead cats to distract from 34 criminal indictments or a nuclear policy with all the structural integrity of wet cardboard. Nevertheless, such attacks can be dangerous for people. An ABS study found that nearly thirty per cent of trans Australians have experienced suicidal thoughts. Suicidal ideation due to gender dysphoria is real. The coalition held a royal commission into the Home Insulation Program following the deaths of four young workers. So I am placing you all on notice right now: if you let politicians determine private health matters, kids will die. The young trans community needs kindness, courage and champions working for them right here under the big flag, because this building belongs to all Australians. Good people don't ever let bullies win elections by targeting the vulnerable. I know that the Parliamentary Friends of LGBTQIA+ Australians will never let caring become a crime.

It has also been an honour to work with all—actually, not all, but nearly all—of the chairs and deputy chairs of the parliamentary committees I've been on. I did name that person, but my office said to take it out! Good committees where there is respect and professionalism are an essential part of this parliament, essential for policy and friendships and the strange links that glue this building together, glue that is needed in the hard times of politics. I spent way too much time with Keith Pitt in this the 47th parliament, also the late Kevin Andrews dealing with family law reform in the 46th Parliament and Karen Andrews in the 45th Parliament. But all effective committees bond over doing the right thing for this nation. My Liberal, National, Greens and Independent colleagues have all been passionate about their communities and their policies, and I have always respected their contributions, despite the fact they were usually wrong—no, just kidding! Nevertheless, thank you for your contributions, for your professionalism and for your friendship.

Committees don't function without their secretariats, so thank you to all those helpful people who are behind the scenes. They make it all work. There are a lot of them in this building. I think my friends Anna and Siobhan are in the building somewhere at the moment. Yes, there they are. And I thank all the librarians, Hansard and all the rest who make this place very easy for politicians to work in.

I give a special thanks to the Leader of the House in his capacity as leader of the band. Thanks for inviting me into Left Right Out. I have had an absolute blast. Finally, we did our own original song last Tuesday. I will leave it to the Leader of the House to reveal when it's coming out. Playing with the Wiggles in the Great Hall was a highlight and playing for the Pharmacy Guild in the same venue—and that gig cost Mark Butler only $26.5 billion over five years. Gigs with some of my rock heroes like Mark Callaghan and Buzz Bidstrup were amazing, but truly not as much fun as jamming here on a Tuesday night. Thank you for the music and friendship, and I look forward to buying that single.

I also thank John, Brendan, Sharon and Brenden from my old band Once I Killed a Gopher with a Stick—yes, that's their name—for doing fundraising gigs every three years for me since 2004.

To the men and women of the press gallery, who I've always seen as an essential part of a healthy democracy, I don't think any other parliament in the world has put the press inside the building, complicit in this precious grand project called democracy. Obviously, that means you must do so much more than provide space in a Harvey Norman catalogue. Unfortunately for me, you've always accurately reported what I said, which has been the source of half my troubles.

As the media business model changes, I wish you all the best in your devotion to truth. And now that the news and social media are polarised by design, some monsters are skilfully and ruthlessly exploiting fear and ignorance. The consent of the governed is harder to corral, and more and more journalists are being killed in the line of duty or arrested or sued for just doing their job. Nevertheless, the job of a good journalist, like a good politician, is to seek the truth and make it known.

And so, in this cold, hard, complicated post-truth world I hope the honour in journalism continues to provide you all with purpose rather than inconvenience—and clicks and paid subscribers too, because good journalism costs money. Unfortunately, so does bad journalism, but that's a whole other problem for Rupert and Lachlan. May you never be deserted by the muse and anonymous sources. And if you ever run out of former politicians prepared to comment on the politics of the day, don't ever phone me.

Prime Minister, I want to thank you for many things. They say in life that you should never meet your heroes, but, Prime Minister, thanks for introducing me to your friend Billy Bragg, who is even better in person. And thanks for the Kessels Road and Mains Road and the Coopers Plains overpass—just half-a-billion dollars or so. Thank you for being a good friend to Moreton and a good friend to me.

Thank you especially to foreign minister Penny Wong for facilitating the release, with you, Prime Minister, of Scott Rush and the remainder of the Bali Nine. I thought I'd be leaving this place with that as unfinished business. Instead, Scott had his first Christmas in 20 years with his parents, Lee and Chris, in Graceville.

I've enjoyed the work of the Brisbane Olympics and Paralympics Games committee with Minister Wells. There have been some challenges with both the professional parties of protest in my state campaigning against the games, but we will get there. I look forward to Queensland and Australia putting on the best games ever in 2032.

And mainly, Prime Minister, thank you for being a steadfast leader, the sort who makes a promise and keeps it. I've loved seeing family law and education policies that I was involved with developing in opposition now Australian law and practice.

As the parties of protest become louder, while the walking jeremiad and his echo acolytes become more shrill, I take great comfort from seeing a Prime Minister focused on delivery. And while the coalescence of whingers on the fringes gets louder, I know you will steer our nation on a sensible, egalitarian path towards sustainable prosperity. There's a quote I love in your mentor Tom Uren's autobiography Straight Left:

We consider it a moral obligation of the fit to look after the sick, of the young to look after the old, and of the rich to look after the poor.

This is a good platform for any re-election campaign, and I know the wind is swinging in behind Labor as the fourth quarter gets willing, so good luck.

In conclusion, I note that when I made my first speech in 2008 my long-separated mother and father were in the gallery sitting together. They're both gone now. You're young and then you're not. Mum's been gone for over a decade, but I still associate her with Canberra, probably because I always found the time to call her when I was away from my own family. Peggy Perrett always gave me good advice, especially after she passed away. She was a strong guide, and I hope I always made you proud, Mum.

I see my brother Simon and his partner, Michael—with a beard to rival Dan's!—up in the gallery. They were here in 2008. I'm glad that there are some things in this world that have not changed.

This can be a hard place to maintain your pride. I've seen politics land blows on all sorts of people. It's a tough place for those who come here seeking some work of dignity and noble purpose. As a species, we do have that capacity for infinite kindness and infinite cruelty, but the everyday people of Moreton lean heavily towards kindness. And the poorer they are, the more kind and generous they seem to be.

We must, through times of disagreement, remain focused on bringing people together. As I said in my first speech:

I wish to remind all Australians that the price of harmony is hard work. Each and every one of us must be eternally vigilant when it comes to community relations. We must knock on all our neighbours' doors and offer a helping hand. We must build understanding, trust and friendship, irrespective of race, religion, age or political beliefs.

So if you are a representative of the Australian people and you exploit conflicts overseas to stoke fear and tension and divide people, then hopefully you will have no place here. Labor will continue to fight against racial and religious vilification and those who use division for political gain.

They say the only thing you can count on in politics is your fingers. I had just turned 42 when the 42nd parliament started, and I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then, but now here in the 47th parliament, as a 47-year-old, I've come to the end of the best job in the world.

There are always more dogs than bones in the world of politics and I was never great at snarling, howling or learning to work with wolves, but I've enjoyed it. There comes a time for a bit of contemplation, as the early promise of life melts into later regrets. I'm so thankful to the mighty Labor Party for gifting me some sense of completion, almost satisfaction—not quite, obviously, because the work of equity and freedom is never done. But thank you all for letting me help our wonderful cause.

Some say politics is a grubby crawl towards noble things that you never see, but I've seen plenty of good in this place. I'm looking at it now. We only get one wild and precious life so we must find some usefulness, and the big purpose of every life is little kindnesses. I hope to distribute some more kindnesses in a different place. It really has been an excellent adventure and I love youse all. So after 'welcome', 'sorry', 'soon' and 'thanks', I'd like to make my final words in here a bit of poetry from the always pithy Dorothy Parker:

My land is bare of chattering folk;

The clouds are low along the ridges,

And sweet's the air with curly smoke

From all my burning bridges.