The Barbeque Song

Eric Bogle


When the summer sun is shining on Australia's happy land

On countless fires and strange attires on many solemn bands

Of lone Australians watching the lunch go up in flames

By the smoke and smell, you can plainly tell it's barbeque time again


When the steaks are burning fiercely and the smoke gets in your eyes

And the "snags" all taste like fried toothpaste and your mouth is full of flies

It's a national institution. It's Australian through and through

So come on mate and grab your plate, let's have a barbeque


The Scots eat lots of haggis. The French eat snails and frogs

The Greeks go crackers over their moussakas and the Chinese love hot dogs

The Welshman loves to have a leek and the Irish like their stew

But you just can't beat that half cooked meat of an Aussie barbeque


And when the barbie's over and your homeward way you wend

With a queasy tummy on the family dunny many hours you'll have to spend

You may find yourself reflecting, as many often do

Come rain or shine that's the bloody last time you'll have a barbeque

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