Oh I'm fed up with this old land,

One day it's wet, the next it's dry,

You never know just where you stand

I'd really like to say goodbye.

Too hot today, tomorrow cold,

Let's see the world, before we're old.

Where shall we go, let's see the map

Yes, Africa looks nice and warm,

With space aplenty, sun on tap

And wildlife there in every form —

Elephants and crocodiles galore,

Giraffes — well who could ask for more?

But now I come to think of it,

Surely that's where AIDS was born,

With malaria, leprosy — could one keep fit?

And tribes there war from night till morn;

To risk going there could be so dire —
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

No, at the map we'll take a look,

See, plenty of places left to choose,

From India's pale strand to old Tolbruk,

Or in China's vast spaces ourselves to lose.

Shall we peep at the other side of the sphere?

What's this great island with nowhere near?

Australia looks good, all bathed there in sun;

Koalas to cuddle, no serpents to dun;

With kangaroo shoots, we can hire a gun

And land is so cheap we can have lots of fun.

We'll purchase a farm,

Yes, that is our choice,

We'll book up the plane,

And speak with one voice,

Here we come, Brisbane!'

William, Thomas and Joyce.

So piano we crated, containered our stuff,

And flew in to Perth, waiting good ship McDuff.

By the time she arrived, we were eaten alive,

By sandflies, mosquitoes — oh, what a dive!

So we boarded the tub and moved on to Brisbane,

To discover for five years, they'd been without rain.

'No wonder land's cheap here,' 'twas then that I cried,

'cause nothing will grow, and everything's died.

The blokes all swill lager, their sorrows to drown,

We don't want to live in this country so brown.

So we left their koalas and kangaroos too,

Re-boarded McDuff, to sail home with the crew.

Poetry and Prose Archives

Len (Snowie) Baynes

05.10.06 Front Page

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