Aussie Aussie Aussie

Australia! Land of flies! Bloody flies!

They get in your ears they get in your eyes.

Musca Domestica  not worth a fig.
The mongrel bastards are so bloody big,

They need their own private airports to land!

Never go without fly spray in your hand.

Why don’t they do something about the fly?

There must be a solution if they try.

I am 50 years old for goodness sake.

I cannot stand the mess they make.

I can’t put up with this pesky lament.

A gentle mind cannot take this torment.

(Puts on a hat with corks)

Ah that’s better an Aussie hat well strung.

I don't remember flies when I was young.

We were too poor to have them anyway.

So begone Diptera get thee away.

What is happening to this great country?

I can't understand why they bother me.

Youth laughs at that which annoys the aged.

Young pups wail when old dogs get enraged.

(August wipes the sweat off his brow.)

I must sit. I can't take this anymore.

Life’s ferry approaches the final shore.

(August sits on a garden bench and speaks to himself.)

August sit down, you silly old bastard,

You old ferret you can't cut the mustard,

Not that you ever could really do much.

Just don't let on to the grandkids and such.

(August opens and closed his hands to improve circulation.)

Bloody Arthritis. Bloody Lymphoma.
Losing memory and Melanoma.

Plenty of time left but nothing to do.

Now there is something to look forward to.

The warmth of summer love has now gone cold.

You have to face the fact that you are old,
You cannot work all day in the garden,

What you once enjoyed is now forbidden.

You don’t welcome clouds covering the Sun,

The way you used to when the rains were fun.

We run for cover when the sky is grey,

Afraid of shadows at the end of day,

There is no disgrace in that I suppose.

All of the old friends have now turned to foes.

We all grow old there’s no avoiding that.

But do I have to wear a silly hat?

The problem is that Australia is young,
In the past the old had to bite their tongue.

It is a place of the eternal youth,
Were pain is a lie and fun is the truth.

They won’t let you grow old; you’re quick or dead,

So fall off your bike but don’t bump your head.

That’s what it means to be Australian,

Worship the silly and don’t use your brain.