Bush Peter

He seldom talks about his past nor pines for what has been
And green hills beyond Toora to him don't seem so green
Down at the pub he socialize though most times he seems shy
And in his heart he'll always be a fresh faced country boy.

On gum tree by his father's house the magpie often sang
And in the Paddocks roundabout the voice of bushlark rang
But he was never nature loving boy or so he will tell you
He'd much prefer to watch the strippers in the pub at Kew.

At the Clifton Hotel after work with pot of beer in hand
By table where the strippers dance at back of queue he stand
To the encouragement of rough shod men the stripper sheds her clothes
And what is running through his mind the good god only knows.

He's twenty seven years old and he's never had a wife
And he'd much prefer his freedom and his seedier way of life
And without woman to cheat on he live the way he choose
And he spends most of his earnings in the brothels and the booze.

Bush Peter is first to admit that he's not squeaky clean
And since he left the Toora hills in strange places he's been
He's either in the Clifton Pub or house of ill renown
Perhaps the brothel in Melbourne known as 'Top Of The Town'.

But he's an honest sort of bloke and for what he want he pay
And if every man were like him then this world would be okay
And women would not feel afraid to leave their homes at dark
To walk the dim lit alley way or unlit city park.

He seldom talk about his past or pine for what has been
And green hills beyond Toora to him don't seem so green
He'd rather be at Clifton Pub with a beer can in his hand
By table where the strippers dance at back of queue he stand.