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Slim Dusty
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Cane Toad's Plain Code
One summers morning as I strode,
Along a dusty Queensland road,
I chanced to meet and old cane toad,
Bowed down beneath a heavy load,
Oh my mind I thought was in a trance,
I had to have a second glance,
For there in boots and moleskin pants,
He stood with proud and haughty stance.
He shed his burdens when I spoke,
He wiped his brow and rolled a smoke,
And said just like it was a joke,
'Lend me a quid mate, I'm flat broke!'
Oh, I thought I must be seeing things,
Illusions like the heat wave brings,
Until he said with toothless grin,
'You look like you've been on a binge.'
Oh, I said, 'Pray tell me Mr Toad,
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Why do you choose to walk the road,
And carry such a heavy load,
Without a fixed place of abode?'
'Well Mate,' said he, 'I like to tramp,
All day 'til heaven lights it's lamp,
And then pull up and make my camp,
Besides, swamps always give me cramps.'
'And while humans try to fight with creed and race
And try to conquer outer space,
I just plod on from place to place,
And watch this mad old world go it's pace.'
I stood and stared as though spellbound
By words of wisdom so profound,
And I heard the old cane toad expound,
'Oh, you sure meet some queer blokes knocking 'round.'
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