.
Les Murray
Wipe the egg off your chin and follow me
down here where we used to bash 'em
after the footy or the cattle sales.
You can come right down the end,
but it's too late cobber.
We could go as hard as we like,
but we're fucked.
We're fucked, mate.
It's like Ratsteeth's Dad.
Kills pigs at the factory all day:
exchange for fuckin‘ ’em all night.
Loves his bacon.
But he's fucked.
He's fucked, mate.
And what about poor skinny Ratsteeth?
I can remember when her name was Christine.
Philip White
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