That day there was a heck of a hullaballoo
On the wharf, by the dock down at Woolloomooloo
As the Queen Mary 2
Hove into view
On the wharf, by the dock down at Woolloomooloo
There were old sea dogs, and new ones too
Each proudly marked by a naval tattoo
As the hooter blew
The crowd grew and grew
On the wharf, by the dock down at Woolloomooloo
On board could be seen an ecstatic few
As they waved to the shore across shrinking blue
Noisy seagulls flew
Children cheered anew
On the wharf, by the dock down at Woolloomooloo
Among the throng on the wharf, a boy just turned two
Marvelled in awe at 'God's own canoe'
It was then he knew
Dreams can come true
On the wharf, by the dock, down at Woolloomooloo
A player in the band made her nervous debut
She'd longed for the day, her time well overdue
The odd note went askew
But she got herself through
On the wharf, by the dock, down at Woolloomooloo
So began a tour in the land of kangaroo
For that monarch of ships, the Queen Mary 2
For her passengers and crew
And the crowd she drew
On the wharf, by the dock, down at Woolloomooloo
I’ve won a dice game in a top hat with a Yahtzee full of ones,
Walked up Snowdon on the Pyg Track with a knapsack that weighed tons.
Played guitar enough to clap at to a load of made-up songs,
But never bullied by a bobcat on bicycle of bronze.
I’ve cruised the Yarra River in a canoe built just for two,
Observed volcanoes in Arequipa with a good friend from Peru.
Bought a wardrobe form Ikea that lacked a vital screw,
But never gunned down like a gangster in a garage by a gnu.
I’ve watched French-based costume drama with musketeers of three,
Sometimes I’ve toiled harder than a healthy worker bee.
Enjoyed a slice of homemade parkin with a pot of Yorkshire tea,
But never traded insults with a trucker on a track beside a tree.
I’ve picked a pea green clover with its lucky leaves of four,
Even been bowled over by a fast-revolving door.
Run barefoot through the pools on an ebb tide sandy shore,
But never patted in a panic by a pangolin’s front paw.
I’ve seen a fly-past of Red Arrows in a V-form of five.
Crossed Lake Titicaca in the fog and made it back alive.
Had a dissertation placed in the Bodleian archive,
But never dressed in comic drag on a dragon’s gravel drive.
I’ve drunk beer from green bottles that come in packs of six,
Filled in forms incorrectly with crosses and not ticks.
Assailed by several puppy dogs and painted in warm licks,
But never featured as feather in a fletcher’s tricky fix.
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