AUSSIE BBQ
When the summer sun is shining,
On Australia's happy land, When countless spires of smoke inspires, The many solemn bands, You'll see Australian's watching their lunch go up in flames.
By the smoke and the smell you can clearly tell it's Barbie time again.
When the steaks are burning fiercly, when the smoke gets in your eyes,
When the sausages taste like fried toothpaste and your driven mad with flies,
It's a national institution, It's the Aussie thing to do.
So come along mate and grab your plate let's have a BBQ.
The Scotsman loves his haggis, and the French all eat snails and frogs.
The Greeks go crackers over their moussaka, and the Yanks all love hot dogs.
The Welshman like to have a leak and the Irish love their stew
But you just can't beat the half cooked meat of an Aussie BBQ.
There's flies stuck to the margarine, and the bread has gone rock hard.
The kids are fighting, and the mossies are biting, Who forgot the Aeroguard?
There's Bull ants in the esky, and the beer is running out.
And what you saw in mum's coleslaw, you just can't think about.
And when the day is over, and your homeward way you went,
With a tongue that's grotty, on the family potty, many lonely hours you'll spend.
You may find yourself reflecting, as many often do.
Come rain or shine, that's the very last time,
You'll have a BBQ.
Yes come along mate, and grab your plate, Let's Have A BBQ.