Long before TV’s Ninja Turkeys
We used to play in sewer pipes,
In South Kingsville, down near Yabby Creek
Where the stench was often more than ripe.

Without money for playhouses in the 1960s
We’d pretend the pipes were foreign lands,
And we were cowboys hunting Indians
Or Sheikhs riding into red desert sands.

Or we were soldiers in the second world war
Fighting the enemy on the run,
But as Aussie we had the upper hand
Since we got to use Mr Owen’s gun.

Or they were wormholes to other worlds
Like in Star Trek and later Blakes 7,
We could zoom toward the outer galaxies
Reaching almost right up into heaven.

Or they were tunnels leading underground
To where Morlocks and other monsters thrived,
And we would have to go right into their lair
To fight if the human race were to survive.

Or we were train-drivers on the Met
Zooming through the proposed underground,
Taking workers from station to station
Ferrying tourists about Melbourne Town.

Long before TV’s Ninja Turkeys
It was poverty that make us play in pipes,
In the 21st century kids are still poor
And have to play anyway they can contrive.

If governments would sometimes tax the rich
They’d have money to hand out to the poor,
Then with better lounge-rooms and cubbyhouses
Kids could play much safer playing indoors.