A CUPPA TEA
When you are travelling in the bush or through Australian towns,
When fording flooded rivers, or on drought-stricken downs,
Where e'er you go you'll hear these words to welcome you or me
"G'day, how yer goin', mate? Let's have a cuppa tea."
Though Aussies like their beer, 'tis true, when bent on revelry,
When sweat pours down their torsos, they reach for a mug 'o tea.
When dust and flies torment their toil, plus aching backs, you'll see
They'll bung the old black billy on, boil up a cuppa tea.
The whistle blows and workers down their tools for tea respite,
And shearers push their last sheep down the chute with deep delight;
Then rushing from the greasy board shout:"How's the teapot, Cook?"
Dont tell us you aint brewed it yet or we'll go mighty crook!"
The ancient swagman ambles on, matilda on his back,
Until he finds a brown lagoon beside a dusty track,
Here, lights a fire of fallen twigs beneath an old gum tree,
And squats down, when his billy boils, to drink a cuppa tea.
As drovers jog their steady way across the the sun-drenched plains,
And heat slows up the cattle____or sheep get bogged by rains_
They spew a string of lurid oaths( unknown to you or me!)
Then grin and drawl, "Aw...what's the odds! Let's brew a cuppa tea
The mothers who live in the towns and have to tote a load
Of parcels, babies, up a hill, or down a rutted road,
Dream as they plod their dreary way of sitting cosily,
With feet up, by the kitchen board to have a cuppa tea.
And when the char drags, weary, home from scrubbing office floors,
The first thing that she does, before she tackles household chores,
Is bang the whistling kettle on, then heaves a sigh, "Oh gee!
Oh gawd! Me aching feet! I'm dead! Oh,for a cuppa tea.
But when the lady of the house puts on a grande party,
She sets the cakes and savouries out, and serves--genteel coffee.
Then when the guests have all gone home, she moans; "Oh deary me!
I really cannot go to bed without my cuppa tea.
When rugged sportsmen, sportsgirls too, get scarlet in the face
From prancing round on tennis courts, or running a stiff race,
From playing cricket in the sun, or surfing in the sea,
Or tussling in a scrum, they swill a cuppa tea.
And when the people on the course are betting fearful odds
Upon their favourite race horse--- which mostly turn out clods----
And they lose their hard earned cash upon a "certainty",
" Oh cripes!" they moan, "we're stony broke. Let's grab a cuppa tea".
When children hurt their loving folk with cruel, unthinking words,
The bright plans that they had for life are turned to whey and curds,
And their love is thrown back in their face, be they he or she
What do they do? Why cock-a-snook!...and gulp a cuppa tea.
When aches and pains tear at their boes, and they are feeling fey
And friends bring their tiffs and woes and every thing seems grey,
There's only one thing left to do . They cry: "It seems to me ,
We'd better go and make ourselves a good, strong cuppa tea.
When life has caught them by the throat, or shakenthem with grief,
And when the one who means the most has proved that love was brief;
When every thing they hold most dear does not seem worth a dree,
Then:"stone the flamin crows!"they shout, "Let's have a cuppa tea.
Emu |
Free Forum Hosting
Important Announcement
First 
