I’M GLAD that the Bushmen can’t see me now <br />A-doing it tall in the town; <br />I’ve an inch-brimmed hat on my sun-burnt brow— <br />And my collar jumps up and down. <br />I’m wearing a vest that would charm a snake, <br />And a tie like a lost soul’s wail; <br />And I’m dressed in a coat of the latest make, <br />With a little slit in the tail: <br />With a little slit in the tail of it, <br />With a little slit in the tail. <br /> <br />My pants alone are a thing of joy, <br />And they’re built to show my bends, <br />With a crease behind and a crease before, <br />And a little curl in the ends. <br />I carry my nose-rag in my cuff, <br />And the lot should get me gaol— <br />I paid five guineas for my rig-out, <br />And one for the slit in the tail: <br />For the little slit in the tail of it, <br />For the little slit in the tail.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-little-slit-in-the-tail/
