(Maybe around a campfire you and your mates could add a stanza or two to this roughie):
I am an Ozzie Drongo,
And Vote for Polly Fella;
E’en as he Morphs, in Nullabore,
To Macaw, from Rosella.
For in the Land of Dingo,
The Bunnies, they are rife.
‘Round Electoral Sea, the Sharks do prowl,
Hoping, to Get a Life.
But why the need of Metaphor?
For Black Crows of the Press;
Everywhere the Dodo haunts,
As Reps become one Less.
Oh, Roosters, Chicks, and Goslings,
Pluck a Duck; Feather ‘n Tar.
One day you are a Wise Old Owl,
The Next, but a Galah.
Let us rejoice, oh, Drongos, all;
As Bunyipville has Vote.
For, if we now do have a Sheep,
Let’s elect, instead, a Goat.
The Kanga and the Emu,
Went strolling o’er the Sand;
Viewing all the lovely Holes,
In their once Mineral Land.
In Land of Franchise Lunacy,
The Half-Wit, he is King;
Or, Queeny, as the case may be?
How long’s a Puppet’s string?
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Don Humphries, June 2010. (Lifted from aus.jokes Usenet newsgroup).
Discussion
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