They used to say, "The Lucky Country"
But it's lucky there no more,
There's good luck for the rich elite
But only bad luck for the poor.
It's bad luck if you're starving there
Bad luck for the unemployed,
Now all the lucky breaks are gone
No good luck is enjoyed.
Luck runs out on frigid nights
For people forced to live outside,
They stay alive wrapped in ‘papers
Still many of them die.
The lucky folk still congregate
At Lygon Street's swanky cafes,
Unconcerned about the unlucky ones
Living just over in Footscray.
For Footscray has a milling throng
Of those whose hope is done,
No smiling faces in the crowds
For them all luck is gone.
The "Lucky Country" not a chance
It's lucky here no more,
Especially in the endless winter
For those living out of doors.
They say you make your own luck
But the government helps the rich,
Their luck is bought and paid for
Their life goes without a glitch.
But for those who cannot pay
Canberra's inflated asking price,
Good luck is mere' a legend for
Street folk living in snow and ice!
© Copyright 2011
© Copyright 2017 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.
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