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letra de a crook - mario william vitale

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becos a crook done in a prince, an’ narked an emperor
an’ struck a light that set the world aflame;
becos the bugles east an’ west sooled on the dawgs o’ war
a bloke called ginger mick ‘as found ‘is game –
found ‘is game an’ found ‘is brothers, ‘oo wus strangers in ‘is sight
till they shed their silly clobber an’ put on the duds fer fight

yes, they’ve shed their silly clobber an’ the other stuff they wore
fer to ‘ide the man beneath it in the past;
an’ each man is the clean, straight man ‘is maker meant ‘im for
an’ each man knows ‘is brother man at last
shy strangers, till a bugle blast preached ‘oly brother’ood;
but mateship they ‘ave found at last; an’ they ‘ave found it good

so the lumper, an’ the lawyer, an’ the chap ‘oo shifted sand
they are cobbers wiv the cove ‘oo drove a quill;
they knut ‘oo swung a cane upon the block, ‘e takes the ‘and
uv the coot ‘oo swung a pick on broken ‘ill;
an’ privit clord augustus drills wiv privit snarky jim –
they are both australian soljers, w’ich is good enough fer ‘im

it’s good enough fer orl uv ’em, as orl uv ’em ‘ave seen
since they got the same glad clobber next their skins;
an’ the bloke ‘oo ‘olds the boodle an’ the coot wivout a bean
why, they knock around like little kharki twins
an’ they got a common lingo, w’ich is growin’ mighty thick
wiv ixpressive contributions frum the stock uv ginger mick

‘e ‘as struck it fer a moral. ginger’s found ‘is game at last
an’ ‘e’s took to it like ducklin’s take to drink;
an’ ‘is slouchin’ an’ ‘is grouchin’ an’ ‘is loafin’ uv the past –
‘e’s done wiv ’em, an’ dumped ’em down the sink
‘e’s a bright an’ shinin’ sample uv a the’ry that i ‘old:
that ev’ry ‘eart that ever pumped is good fer chunks o’ gold

ev’ry feller is a gold mine if yeh take an’ work ‘im right:
it is shinin’ on the surface now an’ then;
an’ there’s some is easy sinkin’, but there’s some wants dynermite
fer they looks a ‘opeless prospect – yet they’re men
an’ ginger – ‘ard-shell ginger’s showin’ signs that ‘e will pay;
but it took a flamin’ world-war fer to blarst ‘is crust away

but they took ‘im an’ they drilled ‘im an’ they shipped ‘im overseas
wiv a crowd uv blokes ‘e never met before
‘e rowed wiv ’em, an’ scr-pped wiv ’em, an’ done some tall c.b.’s
an’ ‘e lobbed wiv ’em on egyp’s sandy shore
then pride o’ race lay ‘olt on ‘im, an’ mick shoves out ‘is chest
to find ‘imself australian an’ blood brothers wiv the rest

so i gits some reel good readin’ in the letter wot ‘e sent-
tho’ the spellin’s pretty rotten now an’ then
‘i ‘ad the joes at first,” ‘e sez; “but now i’m glad i went
fer it’s fine to be among reel, livin’ men
an’ it’s grand to be australian, an’ to say it good an’ loud
when yeh b-mp a forrin country wiv sich fellers as our crowd

“‘struth! i’ve ‘ung around me native land fer close on thirty year
an’ i never knoo wot men me cobbers were:
never knoo that toffs wus white men till i met ’em over ‘ere –
blokes an’ coves i sort o’ snouted over there
yes, i loafed aroun’ me country; an’ i never knoo ‘er then;
but the reel, ribuck australia’s ‘ere, among the fightin’ men

“we’ve slung the swank fer good an’ all; it don’t fit in our plan;
to skite uv birth an’ boodle is a crime
a man wiv us, why, ‘e’s a man becos ‘e is a man
an’ a reel red-‘ot australian ev’ry time
fer dawg an’ side an’ snobbery is down an’ out fer keeps
it’s grit an’ reel good fellership that gits yeh friends in ‘caps

“there’s a bloke ‘oo shipped when i did; ‘e wus lately frum ‘is ma
‘oo ‘ad filled ‘im full uv notions uv ‘is birth;
an’ ‘e overworked ‘is aitches till ‘e got the loud ‘ha-ha’
frum the fellers, but ‘e wouldn’t come to earth
i b-mped ‘is lordship, name o’ keith, an’ ‘ad a little row
an’ ‘e lost some chunks uv beauty; but ‘e’s good australian now

“there is privit snifty thompson, ‘oo wus once a sydney rat
an’ ‘e ‘ung around the rocks when ‘e wus young
there’s little smith uv collin’wood, wiv f-gs stuck in ‘is ‘at
an’ a string uv dirty insults on ‘is tongue
a corperil took them in ‘and – a lad frum lameroo
now both is nearly gentlemen, an’ good australians too

“there’s one, ‘e doesn’t tork a lot, ‘e sez ‘is name is trent
jist a privit, but ‘e knows ‘is drill a treat;
a stand-orf bloke, but reel good pals wiv fellers in ‘is tent
but ‘is ‘ome an’ ‘istoree ‘as got ’em beat
they reckon when ‘e starts to bleed ‘e’ll stain ‘is kharki blue;
an’ ‘is lingo smells uv oxford – but ‘e’s good australian too

“then there’s lofty craig uv queensland, ‘oo’s a special pal uv mine;
slow an’ shy, an’ kind o’ nervous uv ‘is height;
an’ jupp, ‘oo owns a copper show, an’ arsts us out to dine
when we’re doo fer leave in cairo uv a night
an’ there’s bills an’ jims an’ bennos, an’ there’s roys an’ ‘arolds too
an’ they’re cobbers, an’ they’re brothers, an’ australians thro’ an’ thro’

“there is farmers frum the mallec, there is bushmen down frum bourke
there’s college men wiv letters to their name;
there is grafters, an’ there’s blokes ‘oo never done a ‘ard day’s work
till they tumbled, wiv the rest, into the game –
an’ they’re drillin’ ‘ere together, men uv ev’ry creed an’ kind
it’s australia! solid! d-nkum! that ‘as left the land be’ind

“an’ if yeh want a slushy, or a station overseer
or a tinker, or a tailor, or a snob
or a ‘andy bloke wiv ‘orses, or a minin’ ingineer
why, we’ve got the very man to do yer job
butcher, baker, undertaker, or a caf’ de pary chef
‘e is waitin’, keen an’ ready, in the little a.i.f

“an’ they’ve drilled us. strike me lucky! but they’ve drilled us fer a cert!
we ‘ave trod around ole egyp’s burnin’ sand
till i tells meself at evenin’, when i’m wringin’ out me shirt
that we’re built uv wire an’ green-‘ide in our land
strike! i thort i knoo ‘ard yakker, w’ish i’ve tackled many ways
but uv late i’ve took a tumble i bin dozin’ orl me days

“it’s a game, lad,” writes ole ginger, “it’s a game i’m likin’ grand
an’ i’m tryin’ fer a stripe to fill in time;
i ‘ave took a pull on shicker fer the honour uv me land
an’ i’m umpty round the chest an’ feelin’ prime
yeh kin tell rose, if yeh see ‘er, i serloots ‘er o’er the foam
an’ we’ll ‘ave a cray fer supper when i comes a’marchin’ ‘ome.”

so ole ginger sends a letter, an’ ‘is letter’s good to read
fer the things ‘e sez, an’ some things ‘e leaves out;
an’ when a bloke like ‘im wakes up an’ starts to take a ‘eed
well, it’s sort o’ worth the writin’ ‘ome about
‘e’s one uv many little things australia chanced to find
she never knoo she ‘ad around till bugles cleared ‘er mind

becos ole europe lost ‘er block an’ started ‘eavin’ bricks
becos the bugles wailed a song uv war
we found reel gold down in the ‘earts uv orl our ginger micks
we never thort worth minin’ fer before
an’ so, i’m tippin’ we will pray, before our win is scored:
“thank god for mick, an’ bill an’ jim, an’ little brother clord.”

- mario william vitale

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