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Parly Rap

Hey, I’m MC Dougall - and this is my song

I got a little story and it won’t take long

’bout state politics - ’n’ all the parly hacks

They don’t do much ’cept yakkety yak

There’s hard hat Anna – she makes the loudest clatter

They call her Violet Crumble, she’s a mad as a hatter

She's not a fixer, it’s how things shatter that matter

She’s busy building bridges but not for the boaters

Roadways are her way, of wooing swinging voters

“Pick me, pick me

“I'm the only one

“I’m the woman in charge - I get the job done

“I wake up beside my mirror and what do I see

“It’s a toothy grinner, a dead-set winner, lookin’ back at me.”

Bright skirts and white teeth and always tossled hair

But does she care, does she care

does she care about us, those who take the bus

Nah uh, no way

No mother uh-uh way does she listen at all

“I know you all love me, can’t you just see

I'm the happenin’ thang, Miss Pop-ularity”

Anna Bligh speaks about the Opposition Leader

But recent polls show - this just ain’t the case

Percentages are plummeting, the voters got a fright

They can only see a tunnel at end of the light.

She don’t seem to have no rea-lis-ation

We don’t want our assets,

goin’ to privat-isation

We’re sick of all her schemin’

So tell her that she’s dreamin’

Tell her - she’s - dreamin’!

yee har

yee har

yee har, giddy up, and yippee-io

let’s get taken for a ride

Time to move on to the redneck side

The opposition’s clawed some yards in the race.

How the uh I don’t really know

’cos they’re a bunch of hicks, no punch, no show.

Soft cock conservatives not up to the job

Who’s in charge?

Who’s leading this mob?

They haven’t had a leader since they dumped old Bob

JPL and the LNP?

Does it ring bell for you?

Just hits a thumb for me!

Used to be Liberals and Nationals, then they got the urge

To make a stand, shake hands and have a peaceful merge

But do they be-lieve, that we can't really tell

Just who remains a National and who is Lib-er-al

John Paul Langbroek

Langbroek’s a dentist, from down here in Paradise

He grooms his hair … and he scrubs up sorta nice

But John Paul’s just a puppet, he ain’t got no class

Got someone else’s hand stuck, fair up his arse

Those who call the shots, are the back room snots

Blokes that hide their faces, who make others talk their talk

’Cos they ain’t got the guts - or the balls to walk the walk

The deputy is Larry, he used to be the boss

Now he’s been demoted, some regret the loss

Some lefty liberal folk wanna give the girls a whirl

Fiona or Rosemary, all colours and curls

But old and tired Tories will have none o’ that stuff

The only see women as a bit of after-hours fluff

They’ll never win our gratitude until they get some attitude

If they really wanna take on, the Labor wench

They gotta get some mongrels, back on the bench

Blokes who kick and punch, not afraid to me a meany

Like Hobbsy from the backblocks

or his bush mate Jeffrey Seeney.

Jeff Seeney lets loose

But these crazy days, through the maze and haze

It’s the name of the game that the parties look the same

Full of piss and wind and promises

the last two they’re always breakin’

The trouble that we’re facin’ - is of our own makin’

We got to get ourselves together, and do some poll-booth shakin’

Let’s show ’em we’re the bosses, inflict some serious losses

Vote in some brand new can-didates

Not the ones who are old party mates

Who’ll jump right in, not hesitate

Stand up, take charge, show the world at large

That life can once again be really great

In once what was the hap-py state

Where the sun shone bright on beaches and grasses

Instead of out of poli-ticians arses.


© eoin macdhugail Feb 2010

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