My Lasting Minutes

Down in the land of sun and flies,
We voted in a bloke, oh what a surprise.
Albanese, our master tossa,
Picked by a mob, who’s another lotta tossas.

With promises flying, as thin as a snag,
He’s juggling our future like it’s all a gag.
“Fair dinkum,” we say, “what a bloody show,
Leading our country? Stone the crows!”

He waltzes about with a grin on his face,
While we’re left to wonder, “What’s the bloody case?”
The pollies squabble, they whinge and bicker,
But mate, they couldn’t lead a chook to its ticker.

So here’s to Albo, our chosen clown,
And the tossas who put him in the crown.
Fair suck of the sauce, we’ll soldier on,
While this mob stuffs it up before long!