When old duffers reach that over-the-hill age
Loud noises bother them, they get bent out of shape
Get cranky and stuff
Wearing furry ear muffs
Like from the looney bin they just escaped
WILDLIFE SUFFERS
~~~~~~~~~~~~
clearing woodland! really?
makes me feel so teary.
right now my eyes, bleary,
wildlife suffers
once, all mankind, hunters,
nothing left, no grunters!
human beings, shunters!
bald land coiffures
for sustenance, gathered
no land back then, shattered
now the land is battered
us all duffers
much wildlife now extinct
i can't be more succinct
nature won't be hoodwinked
she has buffers
pollution is hurting!
in denial, skirting!
mass extinction, flirting!
closing shutters
~~~~~~~~~~~~
You guys in the USA, do you really pronounce really as re al ly, or real ly?
The trail was thick with bities and the billabong was high
me mates were all a yabbering 'bout the price of meat
The cavvy horses trotted right on course, nothing seemed awry
the jiger boss yelled "Buckeroos! git that stray dogie to teat!"
Old Bluey barks to say G'Day as he helps the boys to muster
all the new calves to the bank, away from the duffers.
A camp fire smokes and Cookie clucks wrapped up in his duster
as Hoodlum sits a peeling spuds dreaming of his mother.
The suns gone down like a gob smacked floozie behind the range.
At last, it seems, we're ending another dusty day.
The night hawks giddyuped, there are bedrolls amongst the sage,
yet were' not within a cooee of the end of an Aussie's play.
Surely, it will rain
The rigged erosion site
Will yield up the graves
With the mangled duffers
We must see
I cannot stop the rain
The cast is already overused
The thunder lines have marked
Out themselves in the sky
Bidding for time
Oh! it will surely rain
It will rain the hard beetles
Resplendent at the castle
Their strange tangles with
Cruelty and promise
Will evaporate
About our virgins
They lost their seals
They walked provokingly
In short pants and bustiers.
Rods of derision pierced
And so they should walk
As they like.
Before it rains, My Dear
Goats will lose their shame
But they must never be allowed
To scud to the rock, and
Ridicule quest for an account.
After the rains, My Dear
The survivors will be happy
The losers will be happy
The spectators will be happy
They would all have learnt
From the rains.