Aussie BBQ Eric Bogle When the summer sun is shining on Australia’s happy land, Round countless fires in strange attire you’ll see many solemn bands Of glum Australians watching their lunch go up in flames, By the smoke and the smell you can plainly tell it’s barby-time again! When the steaks are burning fiercely when the smoke gets in your eyes, When the snags all taste like fried toothpaste and your mouth is full of flies, It’s a national institution; it’s Australian through and through, So come on mate and grab your plate, let’s have a bar-b-que! The Scots eat lots of haggis; the French eat snails and frogs, The Greeks go crackers over their mousakkas, the Chinese love hot dogs, Welshmen love to have a leek, the Irish like their stew, But you just can’t beat that half-cooked meat at an Aussie bar-b-que! There’s flies stuck to the margarine, the bread has gone rock hard The kids are fighting, the mossies are biting “Who forgot the Aeroguard?!” There’s bull ants in the esky and the beer is running out And what you saw in mum’s coleslaw you just don’t think about! And when the barbie’s over and your homeward way you wend With a queasy tummy on the family dunny many lonely hours you spend. You might find yourself reflecting as many often do, Come rain or shine that’s the bloody last time that you’ll have a bar-b-que!