Please adopt an Australian accent:
Me and my mate curly,
Set out from Alice Springs.
We got our tucker sorted.
Water and some things.
We had a crate of Fosters.
Best lager in the world.
Curly had a compass
and an Aussie flag, unfurled.
Old curly had a map you see.
From eighteen forty-two.
It blew into our camp one day.
All wrinkled, smeared with poo.
"Hey Cobber” look what I got.
It blew right out the dunny.
Some geyser wiped his arse on it.
I reckon that aint funny.
Now, I got a dickie tummy.
But I looked at it real hard.
"Curly! it’s a treasure map.”
"A trip seems on the cards.”
Between the little brown bits,
we could see a cross in blood.
It showed old diggers gold mine.
By a billabong near some mud.
So that’s why we went walkabout.
My self and Curly too.
In search of Diggers gold we went.
With a map all smeared with poo.
Straight through Pine Bluff we wandered.
And came upon Jay creek.
"Lets pitch camp” old curly said.
I’m feeling pretty weak.
So we set up camp as the dingoes howled.
And the sun died down at last.
We’d done ten miles in all that heat
So we flaked out pretty fast.
The moon came up like a dinner plate.
And lit the mountain peeks.
I slept just like a baby.
The best I’d had in weeks.
When I woke up the smell was good.
Old Curley had the pan on.
He’d cooked us bacon and some eggs.
Which pretty soon had gone.
Now, the sun got up, as we packed up camp.
And set for the mountainside.
McKinley’s range was the name.
And they reached up to the skies.
I staggered to a halt.
Sweat pouring out of me.
"Curley lets have a beer mate.”
Is what I said to he.
He looked at me all sheepish.
"Er Cobber I have to say.”
"I’ve drunk the bloody lot chum,
I’ve been drinking it all day.”
Now for an Aussie to steal one tinny.
Belonging to his mate.
Is worse than stealing his shiela.
But this shite stole the crate!
We fought all day, in a terrible way.
Then Curly lay and bled.
And the dingoes howled, throughout the night.
Cos I’de Killed old Curly dead.
I buried that toe rag Curly.
By a lake so smooth and clear.
With a headstone which read, ”I’m glad you’re dead,
for stealing all the beer.”
So the sun got hotter and hotter.
As I tried to stagger through.
With my food and a bed, an empty keg.
And the map which was smeared in poo.
Through serpentine gorge’,
and then Goss bluff, the tucker nearly gone.
The water dry and the sun up high
It looked like I was done.
But I gritted me teeth,
and carried on, as best as I could go.
I cursed old Curly, and I cursed his mom.
I hated the bugger so
I lost track of time, it was so bloody hot.
I fell to the ground and cried.
My tongue was dry, I wanted to die.
And my skin was all wrinkled and fried.
As I lay on my back in boiling hot sand.
The vultures around me flew.
But I thought of the gold and continued to hold,
the map which was smothered in poo.
As the sun went down it got cooler.
I looked around to see.
A giant kangaroo with a didgeridoo
Who was sat there staring at me.
He held his fists like a boxer.
Which roos are prone to do.
So I challenged the bugger to fight me.
We did one round, then two.
He had a left hook like a hammer.
But wasn’t so good with his right.
I dodged a jab, which wasn’t too bad.
Then I put him out for the night.
My mouth as dry, as a parrot’s rear end.
My shoulders starting to slouch.
Then I had an idea and without any fear.
Jumped into the kangaroo’s pouch.
Inside were a couple of Joeys.
They looked pretty startled at me.
I said move up, cos I’m wanting to sup.
So they did and I had milk for tea.
The milk sure was’nt Fosters.
But I drank like a dingo flea.
And after a while I felt better.
So I stuck my head out to see.
And there was the lake called Ding- Dang- Do.
Staring back at me.
And I ran and bathed in its water.
As big as any sea.
And the dingoes howled.
As I sang aloud, In the lake as big as the sea.
Then a thought struck home that chilled me bones.
And I just said ”bugger me.”
As I had bathed on the rocky shore,
I realised suddenly.
That the bloody map with its smeared on crap
Had washed off com-ple-tely.
The dingoes howled, as I cursed and growled.
With my map washed clean as new.
And I prayed to the Lord without accord,
For that paper smeared with poo.