It's like a flamin' maze out here
where I'm looking for a name,
where hawthorn hedges line the fences,
and the crossroads look the same.
I'm up and down seems every road,
I've criss-crossed east to west,
as well as going north to south,
where I am cannot be guessed.
I've been through Catani twice,
and three times into Bayles,
so the road and house I'm looking for,
on me mates direction fails.
I cannot place just where I am,
with all this wasted time I spent,
then on a crossing close to Caldermeade,
bang! And I'm in an accident.
I was stunned there like a mullet,
with nerves tingling to touch,
I got out to see the damage,
which luckily was nothing much.
Then the fellow in his rusted ute,
stepped out looking pretty grey,
for he'd gone through a give-way sign,
where I had the right of way.
He looked at his car, then mine
with a big sigh of relief,
for there seemed little damage,
were the words of his belief.
So back to the ute he sauntered,
returning with a drink,
saying, “Mate our shattered nerves,
Need a steadier I think.”
He handed me the bottle
with the cap on it undone,
I had a drink and then he said,
“Go on you have another one.”
I took a swig and then another,
and me nerves were back on track,
so I handed him the bottle,
and in the boot he put it back.
I said, “You didn't take a drink! ”
And he replied to me “I know…
but you can bet that I'll drink plenty
after the coppers go.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem