To Nigel, in jest
Fang it from Banjo,
What a ripper idea!
Now don't get your knickers all knotted,
But someone must say it
He can't have a yack.
He's dead, boxed, buried and rotted.
Has one not the full quid?
Or maybe one's quist?
Having guzzled a slab of XXXX.
Perhap's one just pash
To wallop an Oz
Fresh to the station, I guess.
No illywhacker nor
Ocker bushwhacker
Not a sundowner showing up after the job,
Just a poor swagman,
Honest and blue,
Who makes a good fist for his bob.
So shout me a beer,
I'll quaff it right here,
Then give a loud hooroo and rack off.
But having a naughty
With sheep's not my thing,
So I'll just head home and ... after a long soothing bath, take a well deserved rest.
-30-
Isn't Strine a poetic language?
[This message has been edited by Robert Swagman (edited January 31, 2002).]