The French Disconnection

Dear Mr Macron, or is it Macaroon?
Since we axed your submarines, you’re acting like a loon
You are just another “poly”, a bloody great blowhard
When it comes to trust and friendship, look in your own backyard.

You really spat the dummy and there’s one thing I find frightening
In the days of Joan of Arc, a woman led the fighting
You were thrashed at Trafalgar, when plans went awry
by a one arm pommie admiral, who only had one eye

The Aussies who died on the Fields of France, number nearly 60,0OO strong
If you think their life was cheap, then you’re so bloody wrong
In every single battle, they fought above their weight
Pressing on without fear, no matter what their fate

That war dragged on for four long years, the allies barely survived
The French army mutinied, then the yanks arrived
It was the war to end all wars, an escape from the devil’s den
But sadly within 20 years, they had to do it all again

You switched sides in World War Two and left the Maquis on their own
To guide escaping allies, from the enemy zone
You took refuge in North Africa and thought everything was sweet
Till the Royal Navy attacked Oran and sank the Vichy Fleet

You hung onto your territories, when independence was in vogue
Supporting crime and corruption, like some colonial rogue
We Inherited your legacy, another tragic sham
Ending hopes and dreams for many, with a war in Vietnam

Frog’s legs and escargot, isn’t Aussie fare
I’d never ever touch them, even in despair
I know that we’re a weird mob, with a strange sense of humour
I’d rather have a juicy steak and an ice-cold schooner

The names of our heroes, are carved upon stone walls
Those who fell in combat, in other nations’ brawls
So, there’s a sign I’d like to make, made with an upright thumb
Just take your bloody submarines and shove them up your bum!

 

By Tomas ‘Paddy’ Hamilton
10 November 2021

 

.

.


.


.


.