It’s No Joke to One Bloke
Dear Comrade: In the game of politics
A Senator gits quite enough of kicks
Without 'is photer sittin’ in the press
Wot makes ‘is map look like a nasty mess
A pitcher that present ’im to the mob
A fair gazob.
Me, I ain’t vain, but it is past a joke
To go an’ print a crook dile of a bloke
So that the mob sez, ‘Is this Digger? Struth!
’E’s changed a good bit since 'is flamin’ youth.
We thort 'e was a better lookin’ chap.
Strike! Wot a man!’
Why make me look like somethin’ choice in crooks?
For, if I ain’t got nothin’ but me looks,
Why, gimme looks, an’ bung a photer in
That gives me sex-appeal a dinkum spin
I ain’t - (For w’ich remark 'e’ll please excuse)
No Billy Hughes.
An’ so, I sends 'erewith me dinkum chiv -
The dinkum Digger, w’ich I 'ope you’ll give
A bit o’ space to 'elp along your sales
An’ mind you say I come from Noo South Wales!
That ought to fetch 'em. So you play your part,
An’ ‘ave a ’eart.
