Pack up all my bats and balls
Conflict of disclosure calls
Bye bye Bridget
ScoMo's not a happy chap
doesn't like this kind of crap

His shirt is pressed-and-crispy white
his back is straight, his spinchter tight
He marches the length of his domain
from Aldi to Woolies and back again

If felons come, he'll catch them all
with luck, some terrorists might call
Battle plans and gunfire sound in his brain
from Aldi to Woolies and back again

He didn't make the Army, couldn't be a cop
so here his wartime career will stop
Waiting to be wanted, he marches in vain
from Aldi to Woolies and back again

Twenty Twelve came and went
Talk of Armageddon
little more than grump
Twenty Twenty comes to hand
Our PM's Pentecostal

The sky is blue in Blue Hawaii
not smokey brown from fires like in Sydney
Dreams come true in Blue Hawaii
there's no Climate Change on my hotel TV

Don't follow me, as I run away across the sea
to shelter 'neath the US Presidency
PM Screwed By Blue Hawaii
that's how history will remember me

Could I be the only one
that finds our PM strange
in the manner that he dodges any
talk of Climate Change?
Across near half Australia

I was born on Cup Day
The year Lightfingers won
and Jeanie Shrimpton wore a skirt
that bared her legs in the sun
My grandpop was an extra
in Fifty Thousand Horsemen
Light Horse Captain in real life
and all his horses loved him.

He rode a horse into a bar
He knew without a doubt
that seeing as he owned the pub
he wouldn't get thrown out.
He listened to the races,
had a little bet each day
Knew the trainers, jockeys too
and their journeys to today

Asleep on the floor with a pup in his arms 
in the free tram heading for town
The driver told him he'd have to get up 
as he gazed on him with a frown
As the tram trundled he got to a seat
and muttered while resting there
"Excuse me, will this give me a ride
across to Victoria Square?

"Tax cuts, tax cuts, vote me in"
said Scomo with a boyish grin
Hip pocket nerves Australia-wide
twitched with predictability
Three days after ScoMo glory

I'm ScoMo PM of the Future, 
telling tomorrow today.
My faith is like a suture, 
I Pray II'll never fray.

I've put the budget back in black- at least I will next year
Abracadabra, vote for me now
What could there be to fear?

Global debt's doubled last decade
20 trillion dollars or so
How are we to pay the price
with interest rates so low?

I've put the budget back in black- at least I will next year
Abracadabra, vote for me now
What could there be to fear?

What a bloody mess we're weaving
when the truth is all-deceiving
Dogs wag tails, tails wag dogs
Would-be could-be Hitler blogs
Maybe truth comes from within

In this year of metoo hashtags, 
Harveys, Craigs and all
Times are hard to be a man
We haven't had a ball
A thousand years repression has

(Sung to tune of "Pinball Wizard")

Since I was a boy I've been a fan of Doctor Who
I'd cheer in in admiration at all the things he'd do
I'd hide behind the couch each time a Dalek came onscreen
But now something has happened that can't remain unseen

Chorus:) I used to want to be like him, when I had grown up

Why bother voting when the system's a con
When leaders are milked for charisma, then gone
replaced by a power hungry lackey who grins?
It's always the sneakiest bastard who wins,

(Sung to the Dylan song) 

Some days it's a house of cards
Some days truth it disregards
Most days people stare in wonderment
watching this shambles of a Government
waiting for the Queen to

Is he an Aussie, is he Lizzy, ex PM Lord Tony, hey?

He says he's no longer British, don't trust anthing he'd say
Hiis paperwork is inconclusive, truthfulness is still elusive
Tell us he's a Pommie, Lizzie, we'll ship the bugger  Home today

(with apologies to Mr Flotsam and Mr Jetsam)