Thirteen of the second Twenty twenty,

Thirteen of the second,
Twenty twenty,
How dare you say,
We’re from a land of plenty.

Plenty of crazy,
Plenty of lies,
Plenty of immigrants,
Who hate all the flies.

Plenty of mozzies,
Bitting through dacks.
Plenty of snakes,
Sacking the lax.

We’re full of nut jobs,
Negging away,
Boiling at the seams,
making us pay.

Who tells the story,
Where’s all the fun.
For when the birthday wishes,
Are all over and done.

Who cleans the streets,
Who removes the rubbish.
I wanna hear from,
Someone untrained in yiddish.

He who know,
The value of work.
And takes it seriously,
And doesn’t do shirk.

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