Paul F. McCann

IT’S CALLED THE OUTBACK

Some like the city: some like the scrub.
Some like to bath in an old steel tub.
Some celebrate in a local club.
But there’s nothing beats an outback pub.
You’ll hear the kookaburras giggle,
And see the frill neck lizards wriggle.
But if you should see a Wallaby
Chase a dingo up a mango tree,
Get yourself a stubbie in the hand.

Some drink to your health while it is here.
Some like the taste of an ice-cold beer.
Some have get up and go; some are gone.
But as long as this is going on,
We’ll all say g’day and crack a smile,
See a crocodile and run a mile,
Swipe the blow flies off a party pie,
But if southern stars fall from the sky,
Get yourself a stubbie in the hand.

Some cook with a wok, some barbecue,
Some people go crook, some are true blue.
Some say no worries, she’ll be right mate,
In the outback, it’s never too late.
To plant your feet like a Waratah
Or act up like a bloody Galah
But if you should see a kangaroo
Start to play on a didgeridoo
Get yourself a stubbie in the hand.

Some like to watch to watch a show on TV;
Some like a sunset down by the sea,
Some climb a mountain, some walk a track,
While some get married in the outback.
Wrap a garter round a boomerang;
Someone will catch it, one of the gang.
Throw confetti from a hot tin roof
There’s nothing better and that’s the truth
Get yourself a stubbie in the hand.