the man from ironbark
'Twas the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town.
He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.
He loitered here, he loitered there till he was like to drop.
Untill at last in sheer despair he sought a barbers shop.
"ere, shave my beard and whiskers off, ill be a man of mark.
I'll go and do the Sydney toff, up home in Ironbark".
The barber man was short and flash, as barbers mostly are.
He wore a strike-your-fancy sash, he smoked a big cigar.
He was a humorist of note, and keen at repartee.
He laid the odds and kept a tote, whatever that may be.
And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered "heres a lark",
"just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark"
There were some gilded youths that sat along the barbers wall.
Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all.
To them the barber passed a wink, his dexter eyelid shut.
"I'll make this bloomin' yokel think his bloomin' throat is cut!"
And as he soaped and rubbed it in, he made the rude remark:
"i spose the flats are pretty green, up there in iron bark!"
a grunt was all reply he got. he shaved the bushman's chin,
then made the water boiling hot, and dipped the razor in.
He raised his hand,his brow grew black,he paused a while to gloat
Then slashed that red hot razorback across his victims throat.
Upon the newly shaven skin, it made a livid mark,
no doubt it fairly took him in, this man from iron bark.
He fetched a wild up country yell, might wake the dead to hear,
and though his throat he know full well was cut from ear to ear,
he struggled gamely to his feet to face his murderous foe.
"Youve done for me, you dog. im beat. one hit before i go!".
He lifted up a hairy paw and one tremendous clout
he landed on the barbers chin and knocked the barber out.
then set to work with nail and tooth to make the place a wreck.
he grabbed the nearest guilded youth and tried to break his neck.
And all the while he held his throat to save his vital spark,
and MURDER! BLOODY MURDER! yelled the man from Ironbark.
A peerler man who heard the din came in to see the show,
he tried to run the bushman in, but he refused to go.
And when at last the barber spoke, he said " 'twas all in fun!
just a little harmless joke, a trifle overdone".
"A JOKE!" he cried "by George that's fine. a lively sort of lark!"
I'd like to catch that murderous swine one night in ironbark"
And now around the shearers floor the listening shearers gape.
he tells the story over and over and brags of his escape.
"them barber men what keep the tote, by George I've had enough"
"one tried to cut me bloomin' throat, i thank the lord its tough!"
and wether he's believed or no theres one thing to remark,
that flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark.
(lazy killer robot found that beer tastes better when your older, Wed 19 Dec 2007, 2:24, 1 reply)

Heh.
I had to study that damn poem in school.
(Michael J Fox is having a shaky start., Wed 19 Dec 2007, 10:57, closed)