Wednesday, 11 February 2015

Celebrating the magic of Banjo Paterson



The Man Speaker

Here I am behind the mic looking at you with total fright.

My sphincter is tightening so hard, I feel my balls may blow apart.

There’s more to life as you know of course

But at this very moment it’s all getting worse.

The more I speak the less you enjoy

This repeating of words that are simply a ploy.

Don’t be disheartened for there is an end

To all the speeches that bore you again, and again and again.


Is it cooked?

I once saw a sausage that rolled on its side

It was all pink and purple, and red besides.

I ate that poor sausage with such a delight

It jumped up and down at my very first bite.

Nice sausage it was with tomato sauce

But not long after I suffered the curse.

If you don’t cook poor sausage all the way through

You end up in hospital trying to poo.


The Death Scene

Return to the sky my beloved Marie

Return to the sky for now you are free.

“She’s dead”, cried the padre with some delight

“She’s dead poor people, so stop the fight”.

“She’s dead”, he said with the sign of the cross

“She’s dead, I say, but no great lose”.

Cry a River

The rivers, the rivers are all drying up

Without our rivers, we’re going to be fucked up.

It’s overpopulation that’s stuffing us up

Stop making people cause our rivers, are drying up.


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