MATES
An old Aussie Poem


I'm thinking back across the years,
A thing I do of late,
An' this word sticks between me ears,
You've got to have a "mate".

An tho' it's all so long ago,
This truth I 'ave to state,
A man don't know what lonely means,
Till 'e 'as lost 'is "mate".

If there's a life that follers this
If there's a "Golden Gate",
The welcome that I want to 'ear,
Is just "Good onya Mate"

An' when I've left the driver's seat,
An' 'anded in me plates,
I'll tell ol' Peter at the door
I've come to join me "mates".


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