So, a usual Melbourne summer,
We chat to anyone about the weather,
Very safe subject in Melbourne town,
Raining, then bushfires to cause a frown,
It's either stinking hot, then freezing cold,
Droughts and mists, or scorchers of old,
Four seasons in one day, to ring the changes,
Tomorrow, there'll be bushfires in the ranges,
But today, it's cold and rain,
Good drinking water down the drain,
Yes, a  usual Melbourne summer,
I even wrote a verse  about the weather......

JIMMY HANNANS AFTER LIFE COSMIC SPEECH
RIP
hi, everybody
welcome to jupiter moon
up here in the cosmos
we will sing songs that made jimmy hanna's day
and a few christmas carols thrown in
next time your found
with your chin on the ground
there is a lot to be learned
just look around
just what makes that little old ant
thinking he will move that rubber tree plant
there is no way that an ant can
move a rubber tree plant
and he sang tan shoes with pink shoelaces
a polkadot vest and man oh man
tan shoes with pink shoelaces
and a big panorama with a purple hat band
jesus said something wonderful
jesus said something true
it's the truth that jesus never came
jesus's light is more powerful than you
but i want to enter my next life
yes, my great next life
everyone will be happy to see me in my next life
like you are all here
beach baby beach baby give me a hand
give me something that i can remember
yes, and make me love life like you
beach baby beach baby we're on that sand
from december till the end of march, yeah
come on guys swing your hips with me
strikers coming down like many machines
sixers lost to the mighty hurricanes
thunder is roaring up the renegades
and scorchers aren't playing the game you love
eagles won last year
they beat the magpies to win the cup
a good close game in the rugby league
but melbourne lost to sydney
that was a **** shame
it's great to see women play in our sports
yes it feels pretty rad
oh lordy come on and show us how to party
bring out the dancing girls and the big brass band
i am finally on my way to my next life
probably i will return at the end of the year
and right now i will have a methane smoothie
which will keep my soul regular
regular regular i am so regular
i feel fit, i was just very old
yes i feel regular, i want to bring my mate graham kennedy
out to thank him for all the stuff he did on earth
i want to relax and drink a few cleansing ales
and say, i sure hope i will feel needed up here
till my next earth body is reincarnated

Lightning, fear not
Thunders, befriend
Scorchers, endure
Glory, appreciate in
praise
Life is a passage!

they tell a tale 'bout a bottle filling with all the tears
shed from all the pain 'n misery of all the years
all the suffering, all the tortures,
all the plundering from earth-scorchers
all the famine and the fever and the fears

and when that bottle's reached its limit will be the time
when salvation awoken starts its clock to chime
when war and famine end
humanity grief amends
and forgotten will be the ache and gloom of crime

what kind of bottle is it that never fills
regardless of the slain and horde of kills,
regardless of the river
of blood and pain and shiver
unending on the hard earth flows 'n spills?

we could be staring
at the ceiling together
lost in wonder; but no worry,
our time will come;
how does one
pop a champagne cork
with decorum?
is there no way
to decompress
such a powerful reality;
what person lives
in such a weak-*** place
as where you need to cook
on med-high? Let us
invite them back
to simmerland,
poor scorchers
of innocent garlic,
their culinary attempts
of bravado
leave a disting-
guishable aroma behind,
their loving search
for the unknown,
that which was not
before but lays ahead,
is testament
to their sincerity
and enthusiasm,
their recipes
a jumble of surmise,
but they always pull it off

Summer night give me hope that winter stole

I like summer—not in the "summer is the best" way—
but in the way the sky looks so clear, so infatuating,
While it hides lies beneath the blue.

I like how the summer wind gives me hope—maybe the promise can be fulfilled.

The summer night breeze carries a sense of comfort,
it reminds me of the good days,
reminds me how I got past the bad ones.
It tell me i can.
The cool wind, in contrast to the warmth—I love that.

Yet I hate summer.
I hate how the hope I buried so deep is floating again.
I hate how I think I might be able to do it now.
Summer kisses my forehead
then leaves me sunburnt,
And stupid with its light and hope.

I hate how the sun burns my skin,
while the hope burns my heart,
It scorchers my bones.

It reminds me of the past,
but not in the cruel winter way.
Rather—
in the "you are so brave, you got past that" kind of way.
It makes me feel like I’m someone.
Someone important.

I hate it.
I hate how the sky looks so beautiful,
The "remember when" moments,
The smell of rain on hot pavement;
the air that lingers with scents I love—
yet I can’t go outside.
The sun will burn me.

Summer makes me like i can do it but when i do
It leaves,
And, thats all it does.
Like it never loved me,
just the idea of saving me.