07-02-2004, 06:11 AM | #1 (permalink) |
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Ode to all the Aussies
Now if you say a mans a bloke,
And dont call him a "guy", And say tin and not a "can", Then our friendship will be high. And call a crowd a mob, And never say a "herd", And it's a stockman not a "cowboy", 'Cause thats a dirty word. And when we talk of horses It's a brumby or a prad Not a flamin' Yankee bronco You mugs have all been had We never have a "round up" We muster up the mob And say rush instead of "stampede" Or dont open up your gob And if cattle they are stolen Then try to understand Its not rustlers who're to blame But Duffers, in our land And where we keep hour horses Is not a Yank "corral" In Australia its a stockyard And Im a cobber not a "pal" And all our buckjump shows Have fallen out of use Yank "rodeos" are now the go Its enough to make you puke And all our top line riders Wear Yankee hats and chaps With Yankee shirts and buckles A flamin load of crap And past riders who were great Would look at 'em and laugh When they saw their Yankee saddles With Bulwarks fore and aft And it's a station not a "ranch" We have in this fine land Then invite me to a boree-log And mate I'll shake your hand 'Cause "barbecue" is Yankee And not for us to say But boree-log is local And comes from the early days And when we greet each other We say hello or just g'day Not the Yankee greeting "hi" That all have learnt to say And if we're really friendly then I'm your true blue mate Not your Yankee "buddy" That's another word I hate And when we want some tucker For chook and chips we try Not for Yankee "chickens" Followed by "French fries" And when I have a sausage Its with tomato sauce And not with bloody "ketchup" Which is American of course And it's at the ironmongers We buy our paint and nails Not a Yankee "hardware" which lately has prevailed And our cars they all have mudguards Not "fenders" and the like And a bonnet o'er the engine Not a "hood" cause thats not right And the yanks they have a "trunk" But our cars they have a boot Into which we pack our goodies And other forms of loot While motorbikes have foot-rests Not "pegs" like Yankees do And we go to the flamin lavatory Not the "bathroom" when we poo And running on our railways Were goods-trains day and night But now they cal'em "freight-trains" Will someone see the light? And we take our holidays Not American "vacations" Which is one of many words That is swamping our nation And when we go outdoors Its on a footpath that we stroll Not a Yankee "sidewalk" Its time you were told And when walking or 'riding We using a flamin track Not a Yankee "trail" That word should get the sack And when a baby's wet It's a nappy used by mum Not a Yankee "diaper" That is wrapped around its bum And if the yanks go flying Its an "airplane" that they fill Another word they've buggered up Its an aeroplane you dills And if you want some trousers Moleskins are what you wear Not flamin Yankee "blue jeans" That will so easily tear And all our aerodromes Are falling by the side as into Yankee "airports" Our aeroplanes now glide And in Australia its a tin That holds tucker, paint or drink Not a Yankee "can" So think before you speak If you go into a building Take a lift to the seventh floor Not a Yankee "elevator" Oh, what a flamin' bore And remember when we went To the good ald picture show Not to Yankee "movies" Which now are all the go And the language that we spoke Is going down the shute And the horrid words "I've gotten" Are coming into use And the Yankee spelling Is adopted by the press And not a kid in school Can hold their pen correct They get in all positions And clutch it in their fist The result of trendy teachers Who should of been dismissed And where our land was clean Its now vandalized and sprayed With more and more graffiti That greets the light of day And everywhere you look The young are wearing caps Straight from Yankee baseball With the peak worn 'round the back And have you seen their trousers? Stupid bloody strides The crotch down near their knees Are their nuts so big and wide? And their feet encased in something The like I've never seen Twenty times too large With stripes of pink and green Every item it is foreign From that country overseas Worn by some moronic rap group Just down from out the trees With rounded sloping shoulders And a chest that is concave They lope along the footpath Like monkeys from a cage Fair dinkem when I see 'em As they all go trooping past I cant contain my mirth So I laugh and laugh and laugh But then I start to realize That we've lost our Aussie land And there's no one left to fight Or game to make a stand We've bred a race of sissies Who are "counselled" all the time And instead of taking action They sit at home and whine They say that everyone Is to blame for all their ills And expect that you and me Will pay their flamin bills They're just a bunch of bludgers And there's very little hope But the sorry part of it all Is that the bastards breed and vote But maybe we will see the day When the people make a stand And insist the Aussie way Is taught throughout the land. (Edgar Penzig, 2000) |
07-03-2004, 05:46 AM | #3 (permalink) | |
If you've read this, PM me and say so
Location: Sitting on my ass, and you?
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Re: Ode to all the Aussies
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