His Job!


I'm not any Aussie born and bred,
I came out for choice.
There is one thing that must be said
I'm giving it my voice.
The Great Australian Bar-b-que
where only men can cater.
Here's a time when they don't say,
Hang on, I'll do it later.

First they put their cans in holders,
To keep them coldI think.
Then they put them near the Barby;
Now it's warm to drink!
The meat it is all ready,
The charcoal's nice and hot.
"It's okay, love. I'll do it.
A woman's job, it's not."

It doesn't matter if the steak is burnt.
The 'Game' controlled the chat.
He said when she had cleaned up all the mess.
"I think it was my best Barby that."
Now in my backyard there is space
Which will never be untaken, it's where the Barby
isn't put, my resolve remains unshaken.

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