The day would soon arrive when I could not ignore the rash

I was obviously ill and so I called on Doctor Nash

This standard consultation would adjudicate my fate

I walked into his surgery and gave it to him straight

“Doc, I wonder if you might explain this allergy of mine

You see – I get these pins and needles running up and down my spine

From there, across my body, it will suddenly extend

My neck will feel a shiver and the hairs will stand on end

And then there is that symptom that a man can only fear

It’s a choking in the throat and the crying of a tear"

Well, the doctor scratched his melon with a rather worried look

His furrowed brow suggested that the news to come was crook

“What is it Doc?” I motioned "Have I got a rare disease

I’m man enough to cop it sweet so give it to me please"

“Well I’m not too sure” he answered, in a puzzled kind of way

“It seems you’ve got some kind of fever but it’s hard for me to say

When is it that you feel this most peculiar condition?"

I thought for just a moment and then I gave him my position

“Doc, I get it when I’m standing in an Anzac Day parade

And I get it when the anthem of our native land is played

And I got it back in 91 when Farr-Jones held the Cup

And I got it when Japan was stormed by Better loosen Up

I get it when the Banjo takes me down the Snowy River

And Matilda sends me waltzing with a billy-boiling shiver

It hit me hard when Sydney was awarded with the Games

And I get it when I see our farmers fighting for their names

It flattened me when Bertrand raised the Boxing Kangaroo

And when Perkins smashed the record, well, the rashes were true blue

So tell me Doc" I questioned “Am I really gonna die?”

He broke into a smile before he looked me in the eye

As he fumbled with his stethoscope and pushed it out of reach

He wiped away a tear and then he gave this stirring speech:

“From the beaches here in Queensland to the sweeping shores of Broome

On the Harbour banks of Sydney where the Waratah’s in bloom

From Uluru at sunset to the mighty Tasman Sea

In the Adelaide cathedrals, at the roaring MCG

From the Great Australian Bight up to the Gulf of Carpentaria

The medical profession call it ‘Green and Gold Malaria’

But forget about the textbooks son, the truth I shouldn’t hide

The rash that you’ve contracted here is ‘good old Aussie pride’

I’m afraid that you were born with it and one thing is for sure

You’ll die with it young man because there isn’t any cure"



Doonside, Australia

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