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On Paper An Aussie

On paper an Aussie I thought I Might be
But that hardly would make an Aussie of me
I don't have the accent as most would agree
So I've decided to become an Aussie on paper not a good idea
A strong North Cork accent I do retain
So an Irishman on paper I will remain
A migrant in Australia and sad for to say
I might feel an outsider in Ireland today
Though my accent some struggle for to understand
I do love Australia this great Southern Land
The land of the World's oldest Indigenous Race
Where them and their culture by right ought to take pride of place
The home of koala and wombat and roo
Of emu, possum, rosella, lyrebird and cockatoo

poem by Francis Duggan
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I Love This Land Australia

I love this Land Australia of gum and wattle tree
This vast and sunlit Continent is home from home for me
And though I come from a distant Land when I have had my day
Than underneath Australian soil where better place to lay.

I love this Land Australia home of the kangaroo
Of echidna and wombat, platypus and cockatoo
Of lorikeet and rosella, koala, possum and emu
And other unusual birds and animals as I've mentioned just a few.

I like Australian people if poor man make good they say
The man he is a battler, good on him anyway,
In Land of wedge tailed eagle there's rooom to spread one's wings
And in the lucky country the battler is a king.

I love this Land Australia it's home from home for me,
Home of the kookaburra and gum and wattle tree
And bell bird and bell magpie who through the Winter sing
A Winter oft times milder than Ireland in the Spring.

I love this Land Australia of sunshine and bird song
And with each passing day my love for this great Country grow more strong
And though I come from a distant Land when I have had my day
Than underneath Australian soil where better place to lay.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Australia With Any

The Nature and rugged beauty of this Southern Land
Is a thing one like me could never understand
A migrant from by old brown hills far away
Of Nature we learn something new every day.

How could one from the Land of the black and gray crow
Anything of the Nature of this Southern Country hope to know
The home of megapodes and marsupials and birds of beauty rare
Australia with any a Land to compare.

Australia the Land of the red and grey roo
Of emu, koala and wombat and many species of cockatoo
Of butcherbird, kookaburra, lyrebird, magpie and the pied currawong
The dark birds 'tis said who have rain in their song.

Of Australia's many beautiful parrots to name just a few
Rosellas, lorikeets and king parrots so lovely to view
The monoterenes egg laying mammals in Australia only found
The platypus and echidna mystery them does surround

The wonders of Nature have never been few
And each day from her we do learn something new
And I from the Land of the black and gray crow
So little of Australia's Nature does know.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The National Game Of Australia

The National game of Australia is Australian Rules Football
And the Aussies who love their game say 'tis the greatest game of all
Soccer, Rugby Union and Rugby League and Cricket have their roots elsewhere
But no truer Aussie sportsman than an Aussie Rules footy player,
A game born on Australian soil it surely is Australia's own
And the legend of great footy players in their deaths has even grown
In September at the famed M C G in Melbourne on A F L Grand Final Day
Close to one hundred thousand people flock to watch Australia's best teams play
Though many like both codes of rugby and cricket and soccer a game that is played Worldwide
Australia's National game is Aussie Rules to many that's a source of pride
The National Game of Australia and it's great claim to fame
Is that it was born and bred in Australia and is the only true Australian Game
And it surely is a true Aussie as Aussie as can be
And though some others may like introduced games far better with what I say many would agree.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Southern Accents

Theres a southern accent, where I come from
The younguns call it country
The yankees call it dumb
I got my own way of talkin
But everything is done, with a southern accent
Where I come from
Now that drunk tank in atlantas
Just a motel room to me
Think I might go work orlando
If them orange groves dont freeze
I got my own way of workin
But everything is run, with a southern accent
Where I come from
For just a minute there I was dreaming
For just a minute it was all so real
For just a minute she was standing there, with me
Theres a dream I keep having
Where my mama comes to me
And kneels down over by the window
And says a prayer for me
I got my own way of prayin
But everyones begun
With a sou thern accent
Where I come from
I got my own way of livin
But everything gets done
With a southern accent
Where I come from

song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greg

Greg a man of medium height and build is in his late sixties with the silver of time in his hair
In the early sixties he left his old Hometown in England for to experience life in the big World out there
He never did return to Scunthorpe or again set foot on his old Homeland shore
He grows old in this southern Country where one day his bones will rest forever more.

His only child a daughter has a teenage son and daughter and as for Bella his ex wife
Three years ago she married her lover since he is the great love of her life
And Greg lives alone in a Melbourne eastern Suburb in a two room flat he reside
A kind hearted and honest fellow of far off old England with nothing in his life for to hide.

But his English accent is still with him to his heritage a give away
The tongue of his old Mother Country until his end with him will stay
He lives off of his retirement pension his main interests greyhound racing and Aussie Rules football
With a great memory for names and faces past happenings he can readily recall.

On Saturday evening Greg goes to the Local Pub for a few drinks and a chat with his mates
And the main topic is Aussie Rules football the great games and the footballing greats
He seldom ever talks of England I'm a naturalized Aussie he say
I will live out my years in this Country and in Aussie soil my bones will lay.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Its Always Australia For Me

(olivia newton-john/john capek)
As a young girl I came here by the sea
To a new home for my family
It welcome us with open arms
A chance to live my dream
And theres no place that Id rather be
Yes-its always australia for me
As the years went on I moved far away
And I always said Id come back some day
I think about it all the time
My friends all here me say
That theres no place that Id rather be
Yes-its always australia for me
Live-love knowing that were all free
Know that we are blessed in our country
And realize how lucky we are
Safe beneath our southern star
And theres no place that Id rather be
Yes-its always australia for me
Live-love knowing that were all free
Know that we are blessed in our country
And realize how lucky we are
Safe beneath our southern star
And theres no place in the world Id rather be
Happy birthday to aussie from me

song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mick Kissane From Kenmare

Though living far from Ireland he's still Irish to the core
And he still talks of Kerry and Kenmare and Inchamore
And he derive much pleasure knocking Thatcher and the Queen
And he feels ever faithful to the wearers of the green.

He's living in Mount Evelyn renowned for it's gum trees
Where currawong and magpie pipe their joyful melodies
Where kookaburra wake you at the dawning of the day
With his harsh like laugh that one can hear a half a mile away.

But he like it in Australia and he feel settled down
In the valley of the gum trees a short drive from Melbourne Town
And though he still loves his Ireland he's in Aussie Land to stay
But he will return to Kerry for a two month holiday.

He love Australian football and he barrack for Hawthorn
But he has no love for soccer wish that game were never born
He say soccer is a cissy game that the English popularized
But if he praised anything he consider English I for one would feel surprised.

He's a few years with the forty gray ribs through his raven hair
But he still looks young for his years Mick Kissane from Kenmare
And though he love it in Australia at heart he's still an Irishman
A patriotic, passive type Irish Republican.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Stand Aside John Howard

Stand aside John Howard and leave some one else take over you've had your go and you've failed to impress
For seven years you've been Prime Minister of Australia and without you there would be more happiness
The Country would be better off without you and you've clung to power in such a sneaky way
History will treat you less kind than did the Aussie voters
It's time perhaps that you called it a day.

As a leader you have only been divisive and you'll always be
seen as a lesser light
The Country now needs someone with more goodwill a leader whom the people behind can unite
You fought the last election on boat people and you've clung to power by preying on the voters fears
Move over John leave someone else take over you've only caused mistrust in seven years

If you feel the Country cannot do without you here's news for you John you have got it wrong
You are just an old style tory politician and back there in the fifties you belong
Australia will go on no matter who comes or goes and the Country will do nicely without you
Stand aside John and take your huge retirement packet a good
P.M. Aussies are overdue.

Stand aside John Howard for you have had your innings and you've clung to power in your own cunning way
You won your last election at the expense of boat people on the fears of Aussie voters you seized your chance to prey
Your Government demonised misplaced people and as a P.M. you have been so small
And you have sullied an Australian icon the Aussie belief in a fair go for all.

poem by Francis Duggan
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A New Year's Toast

Here's to every Aussie fellow,
Who refused to show the yellow
When depression's clammy hand
Cast its shadow o'er the land.

Here's to them who never altered
When the timid feared and faltered,
But with dogged confidence
Backed their nation's sound good sense.

Here's to them who, ne'er reviling,
Took the knock and came up smiling -
Battlers with their steadfast gaze
Fixed ahead on better days.

Aussie cobbers, strong thro' striving,
Chastened by ill-luck are thriving;
Now that better days are near
Here's a prosperous New Year!

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Young Aussie

In the company of women he is not coy or shy
A real macho type is the young Aussie guy
And some young women like him though some young women say
A bit of a boofhead who pushes his way.

He likes to talk cricket with his mates drinking beer
But of God and of religion he does not wish to hear
He does not have a God for to which he can pray
And he is never seen in a church on sunday.

He is a great fan of Aussie Rules Football
To him the one true game and the best game of them all
On friday night he goes to the football and on saturday to the pub
And on sunday evening he drinks in the Sportsman's Club.

The young Aussie bloke he doesn't use words like date
His woman to him she is more of a mate
On saturday night at the disco for five hours or more
He parties and drinks till the small hours of four.

Though much his own man in him there is much good
And the young Aussie he would help you if he could
But don't mention God to him for he will only say
That only the impressionable to the unseen do pray.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Paper And Pen

Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Can’t think of anything to say today
Can’t think of anything to do
Can’t think of anything to play today
Minds gone blank
Leaving me here, just sitting here
Listening to my hair grow

Paper and pen
Paper and pen

And I look towards you
For an inspiration or a word or two
I try but I find
Every road only leads me back to these lines

Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Paper and pen
Piano, guitar
I try but don't get very far
Paper and pen
Piano, guitar

Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Copyright Colin Coplin 1985 / 2010

poem by Colin Coplin
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To Doris

She said I come from a land flanked by the warmer seas
A flat brown land that stretch for miles with hardly any trees
In my dreams I see the big game parks and the open plains I see
'Oh' Africa my Africa I hear you calling me.

I hear the male lion cough and roar and the wild hyena scream
And the Natives dance before my eyes so real to me they seem
I hear them singing in the night and their drumming I too hear
And Africa close to my heart though miles away from here.

Doris accent is a give away as accents often are
You'd know that to get to this great Land that she's had to travel far
Her lovely South African accent one never should mistake
The migrant may live far from home but ties that bind are hard to break.

A farmer's daughter from South Africa her life story ought be told
A woman close to eighty years though she doesn't look that old
A teenager in the thirties the hard life she has been through
Her only brother a prisoner of war in Europe in world war two.

Her ill mother convinced her son had died lost the will to live on
And he returned home to the tragic news that his mum was dead and gone
There's sorrow blood and tears in war and tragedy as well
And for mums with sons on battlefields life must be living hell.

She raised five sons in South Africa and one died at twenty five
Brain damaged by measles as a child she helped him to survive
And Doris with great sadness says that her son's life was far too brief
There's ups and downs in life she says and there's happiness and grief.

With her son and daughter in law she lives east of Melbourne now by road off 'One Tree Hill'
A woman from a far Country and suppose she always will
Feel homesick for her home Country, I love Australia she say
But my homeland is South Africa the brown Land far away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Paper Boy

Roy orbison
I walk down to the blue side of town
Where there's no happiness, no joy
Down at the end of a long dark street
I saw a little paper boy
Paper boy paper boy
I've got bad news for you
Paper boy paper boy
Me and my baby are through
She was my love my one and only
I feel so bad i'm oh so lonely
I'm looking for my love
I've got my own headlines for today
They've been the same since she went away
"one dark haired angel disappears
She's been missing for a million years"
Paper boy paper boy
So long goodbye
Paper boy paper boy
Thanks for listening while i cry
I feel a little better now that someone knows
But i will go on looking forever, i suppose
I'm looking for my love
Extra extra read all about it
My baby's gone and i wanna shout it
I'm looking for my love
I'm looking for my love
I'm looking for my love....

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are always going to be influenced by America... I watched the word 'bum' go out and 'butt' come in. And part of me says, oh that's a shame, but Aussie boys are still Aussie boys.

quote by Bryan Brown
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Wonderful Aussie Waler

When Allenby's Army smashed the Turk
Who was the bloke who did all the work
The Aussie knows and he'll tell you straight
That most of the job was done by his mate
The wonderful Aussie Waler
It was umpty-nine in the shade each day
And the wells were spoiled in the Turkish way
But with nothing to eat and plenty to do
The heart of the Waler carried him through
The wonderful, wonderful Waler

For ten long weeks through the desert hot
He plugged along and all that he got
Was a drink, or not a drink a day
But did the stamina once give way
Of the wonderful Aussie Waler?
Was he the one to desert his mate?
Just watch him coming up the straight
With twenty stone of harness and man
No wonder the Turk was an also ran
With the wonderful, wonderful Waler

When drinks were not and feeds were few
There still was his harness that he could chew
With a nibble or two at another's mane
He plucked up heart to march again
The wonderful Aussie Waler
And when everything edible seemed to be stale
A hair or two from a neighbour's tail
Makes a pleasant meal and there's no doubt
They took it turn and turn about
The wonderful, wonderful Waler

A great Australian through and through
There's a good time coming old horse for you
There's a paddock green with grass to your knees
And there you shall roll at your lordly ease
My wonderful Aussie Waler
With a gallop or two to keep you fit
And won't it bring back the thrill of it!
There 're no more hardships and little work
For the cobber who broke the heathen Turk
My wonderful, wonderful Waler

But what is that the orders tell?
This mate of mine they're going to sell
To the old home paddock you'll never come back
They are selling you as a local's hack
My wonderful, wonderful Waler
The times together that we've been through
When all that I had in the world was you
Out there! Out there in a world of men
You were more than wife or sweetheart then
My wonderful, wonderful Waler

There was trust and mateship in your eyes
A horse has no soul - All lies I All lies!
And more than a kiss or soft eyes that speak
Was your muzzling nose against my cheek
You wonderful Aussie Waler
A life long slavery is your fate
Not while a mate can still shoot straight
Your eyes - I need a steady hand -
Good bye old chap - you understand
You wonderful, wonderful Waler.

poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Longevity

What's the use of longing?
Not necessary to measure
In longhand,
Humbly I write
It's very short
Shorter than a hug.
I met Mr.Kevin.Rudd [ousted Aussie'sPM] yesterday in my dreams
And no more.

*I dedicate this poem to the Aussie's PM Mrs. Julia.Gillard the lady in waiting for an Aug.21 general election.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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An Aussie Christmas Day

In the park after eating barbequed fry the family a game of cricket play
In the warmth of the sunshine of an Aussie Christmas Day
A perfect day for Christmas around 24 degrees
On an afternoon made pleasant by a cool and freshening breeze
On this day in the Land of plenty a thought we ought to spare
For the people who are doing it hard in the bigger world out there
The Homeless and the Stateless dying of hunger and disease
In the refugee camps of the World thirty million refugees
Yet even in the Land of plenty the faces of poverty one does meet
The Homeless and God forsaken who live their lives on the street
Amongst the many well to do the faces of poverty
The outcasts and fringe dwellers of human society
Still a happy Christmas to you on this Aussie Christmas Day
As the family in the sunshine a game of cricket play.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I love my accent, I thought it was useful in Gone In 60 Seconds because the standard villain is upper class or Cockney. My Northern accent would be an odd clash opposite Nic Cage.

quote by Christopher Eccleston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Paper-boat just on the Sea!

A paper-boat, I tend to be!
The sea of life is too stormy;
Afraid I am, it could sink me,
Before I can reach land’s safety!

But if He wants, the Almighty,
Could work miracles still for me;
And guide the boat to shore safely,
And keep me dry eternally!

A paper-boat just on the sea!
How can it float for long freely?
And when the sea becomes angry,
Can it escape its cruelty?

But all the same, I move slowly;
Nothing on earth can deter me;
Unless something so cowardly,
Drenches the boat mercilessly.

A paper-boat just on the sea!
I know I must make it surely;
And when I reach the shore, may be,
I will feel immensely happy!

A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Who else would want to be like me?
God is my guide and my safety;
In Him, I have strong faith truly!

A paper-boat just on the sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be;
A paper-boat, I want to be-
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-26-2000

poem by John Celes
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Another Pot O' Tea

Another Pot Of Tea
Written by Paul Grady
Put on another pot o' tea
'Cause I'm in love with the Irish accent to your story
And I need someone to help me
Well they say that now you don't talk straight
And that of late it's been my lot to be afraid
To remember you by anything
But memories I already keep
So put another pot o' tea
'Cause I'm love with the Irish accent to your story
And now I need some sympathy
It's harder when it takes so long to leave
The table where we all learned to laugh and learned to grieve
Over the pain that came so close to you
It comes so close to me today
So put another pot o' tea
'Cause I'm in love with the Irish accent to your story
And I need someone to help me

song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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