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C J Dennis - Lotsertime
Work rating: Low

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
      On speed.  But I`m like my ole dad.
   The things a man don`t do today
   He does termorrer, anyway.
So wot`s the odds!  This speed`s all tripe.
Wait on until I light me pipe.
   A spell for yarnin` ain`t no crime;
   This is the land o` Lotsertime.

The Melbourne cockies, they don`t care.
      There`s always `eaps o` time to spare.
   They ain`t air-minded like yous blokes
   From Europe, or them Yankee folks.
Why should we be, when all is said?
When coves dies they`re a long time dead.
   Why worry while the crops is prime?
   This is the land o` Lotsertime.

So, sling the mail bags over `ere.
      I`ll fill me pipe again an` clear.
   I hold one record, `t any rate;
   I always gets there, soon or late.
The mail gets thro`, dry stage or wet;
An` fire or flood ain`t beat me yet.
   Our troubles `ow speed records climb
   In this `ere land o` Lotsertime.
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