The Bushfire

          THE AIM

Let's have a tiny little bush fire.
  It's a cold, cold night tonight.
We are sick of this long session
Of the darkness of depression.
  And a fire would make things bright.


Just a teeny, weeny little bushfire;
  It's easily controlled.
We can sit around and watch it;
If it spreads we'll simply scotch it.
  But we must keep out the cold.


Oh, let's have the smallest little bush fire;
  It's a fair thing in this storm.
There are plenty here to fight it,
So just strike a match and light it. . . .
  Ah! Now we'll all get warm.


            THE AFTERMATH


Hey!  Watch there!  The blooming thing is spreading!
  Don't let it catch those trees!
Now that clump of scrub has caught it!
Well who ever would have thought it?
  There's a change, too, in the breeze.


It was only just a tiny little bushfire,
  But it's leaping, roaring now
And we can't hope to defeat it,
Better grab your traps and beat it
  For we must get out somehow.


It was only just a harmless little bushfire
  But, gosh!  How it did burn!
Now the old homestead is blazing.
Well it's certainly amazing;
  But a man must live and learn.