Across
the East Coast came a tropical cyclone called Larry
Bigger
than
Tracy
, destructive winds took all they could carry
Three
hundred k’s an hour, rated a category five
Scared
the hell out of me – only God knows how I’m still alive
I
had taped the windows and was hiding under the table
When
the roof blew off and the house began to feel unstable
Then
the wind died down and I started to get an odd feeling
For
the only things left were stumps and a starry sky ceiling
So
I called the insurance company and they ripped me blind
“The
house was quite old” he said, “twenty grand and I’m being kind”
Now
being poor ain’t a totally foreign concept to me
‘Cause
I stepped off the boat from
Russia
with only ten pounds three
But
I saved every penny I earned working hard in a gang
Cutting
cane with a knife in my hand as we cried and we sang
I
lived in a barracks and drank vodka shots to entertain
The
other migrants from
Italy
,
Poland
,
Finland
and
Spain
Then
one day I found some land for sale beside the ocean
So
I paid a small deposit and set the wheels in motion
The
first thing I did was set up a hammock between two trees
Then
I lit a cigar and laid down to enjoy the sea breeze
Taking
a pencil I drew on a page until it was filled
With
the master plan of the house that I was about to build
I
hammered every nail in myself, while the neighbours stared
‘Cause
I used silky oak and stained glass, and no expense was spared
It
was huge; I could fish off the front porch and not hear the phone
And
then that was buggered up because they made it a ‘Green Zone’
Okay,
can’t blame Larry for the lack of fishing to be had
But
come on! Only twenty grand? Was the house really that bad?
The
Pollies came up to look, clapping each other on the back
“We
will take care of you all” they said, to avoid any flak
Who
were they trying to kid? I’ve got a tarp over my head
And
I still go to sleep on the floor, ‘cause I don’t own a bed
I’ve
given up on the insurance, they won’t return my calls
And
twenty grand may not build a kitchen, let alone four walls
So
I have come up with a plan to kill two birds with one stone
My
house will become a tourist destination of its’ own
If
you will come a drink a bottle of Bundy Rum with me
I
will give up vodka, to help save the sugar industry
And
if I keep every bottle we share to use as a brick
I
reckon my house of Rum bottles will be built pretty quick
And
I will live in the house and drink Bundy Rum to entertain
All
of the tourists from
Italy
,
Poland
,
Finland
and
Spain
And
if the insurance company ever sends the money
Then
I will have the world’s most expensive, gold – plated dunny!
©
Stephen
Bourke,
Australia 2006
