And went to shake my hand,
So I handed him my wallet,
I knew he’d understand.
He started to talk of parties,
And the great things they do,
So I reminded him of Little Johnny,
And how my money flew.
Not to be deterred,
He asked me for my vote,
I called him all sorts of names,
And grabbed im’ round the throat.
Listen here mate I said,
You’d tax me in the rain,
And if I did’nt pay you enough,
You’d do it over and over again.
Can’t ya’ see you’ve left me skint,
I’ve got nothing more to give,
Would ya’ mind if I keep my trousers on,
And where do ya’ reckon I’ll live.
I’ve already quit the fags ya’ know,
And, next will be the grog,
You’ve taxed away my joys in life,
So when do you collect my dog.
Well now you have me on my knees,
And you’re sure you’ve got the lot,
I’ll tell you about your government pal,
You’ve all lost the bloody plot.
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hey yea im aboriginal nd thts a great poem ay cause white ppl have no respect fo us we own dis country n its time ta get it bk