There are surges at the station
For word has got around
That someone thinks power's fit to privatise
Pyremmia Eyemmia and his mate "Too Mucha" Costa
They're in this plot up to their scheming eyes
@poetry = Pyremmia Eyemmia? Yes — the man from Snowjob River
Torrents of it flow each time he speaks
With Treasury boffins greedier
Time to confuse the media
Hoodwink the public with selective leaks
@poetry = At Wang, Liddell and Piper
They must outwit the viper
Essential service! — Keep in public hands!
Organise — don't falter
This program must be altered
Don't govern just for corporate demands!
@poetry = But "Fancy Pants the Overpaid" is here to lend a hand
He's been at public-private gigs before
When our Premier hankers
After deals with ... merchant bankers
The public purse is set to end up poor
@poetry = And now the lights are dimming
With all this budget-trimming,
The man from Snow-job's blackout-prone this hour.
He's kept the "Flintstones" shelfbound
Along with all my other Dee-vee-dees
Can't watch a thing when there's no power!
@poetry = Eyemmia and Costa
They'll both be on a roster
To meet the Pope in Sydney before long
Spare diesel generation
Could have an application
When the Pope turns on his "mike" to wow the throng
@poetry = But Murphy's Law's disruption
A big power interruption!
When the Pontiff lands at Mascot — wait and see
He'll drop and smooch the ashphalt
Then say some words quite heartfelt:
"Oh Sydney's full of candles — just for me!"
@poetry = But the pollies are still wheeling
They're ducking — and they're dealing
However it turns out — there'll be no pride
In Pyremmia Eyemmia
And his private power dylemmia
As the shock-jocks note the thickness of his hide!
@auth poem = Don Morison, http://unionsong.com