A poem from Mitch C on the Third World refugee influx into Australia. It is not “politically correct”, but is obviously written in a light-hearted vein.
They’re coming to my country,
They’re coming by the dozen,
You can smell the stench of un-washed clothes,
And hear the flies a-buzz’n.
From Vietnam and the Middle East,
From Ethiopia and Sudan,
I used to have the Smiths next door
But now I’ve got Wong Fu Chan.
Their baggage is war from a land of hate,
It’s all they’ve ever known,
So we must resist, let no more in,
And send the others home.
On Anzac day, we’ll all be proud,
Of Aussie men who gave their lives,
So we can walk the streets un-armed,
And have no burquas on our wives.
Australia’s sons, let us rejoice,
For we are young and free,
We must stand up, and stop the flood,
’Cause they’ll out-breed you and me.