Aw, chuck the mail bags over there,
It's great to have 'em brought by air;
But, now they're here, just sling 'em round,
Out anywhere, upon the ground.
I'll pick 'em up an' make full speed
Soon as me 'orse 'as 'as a feed.
Delays don't count in this fair clime;
This is the land o' Lotsertime.
I 'ear 'ow Europe's gone fair mad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem