And I am outta here!
Upon the lower country,
That combines the sea and sand.
Freedom fights for justice,
In this redundant land.
The cities are the mob war scenes,
The country town's a joke.
And every time I see that dumb smurf, Rudd,
I hope that he will choke.
For lies and lies are building,
And the swirls of mighty dust.
Always make my throat seize up,
I think its Cairns or bust.
Its boiling in the summer,
And freezing in the cold.
Why can't this place make up it's mind,
Why cant it ever fold?
So I guess that I will wait a bit,
Deal with it for a moment more.
Unless when the storms run in,
I wind up on the floor.
So farewell sunburnt country,
Farewell to the scorching day.
I'll see you when I come to terms with life,
And reach the USA.
poem by Stuart Logan
Added by Poetry Lover
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