Fought the fight and hurt another
Took myself seriously but why bother
That very first time
You went weak at the knees
Would you be able
If you really begged please?
We’re off to the farm again
It’s summer holiday time
It may be dry
The droughts got a hold
He turns and looks longingly out to sea
The menacing wind rocks and buffets his soul
Pathways meandered through trees
Along the edges of the lakes
Around corners we journeyed
At peace with the world
A sale thank you
The animals will stampede and and leave him ,dead up on the track.
When a nasty Brahman bull went burko and poor old Ted,he gored.
And drag us over all those splintery lumps and horrible drafty cracks.
He lost the last ute chaser, stolen by crocodiles
A stick of jelly in both hands, and a crazy eerie laugh
Two hundred hungry dingos waiting for old George to snore