Said Hanrahan

With apologies to John O’Brien
Monsignor Patrick Hartigan (1878-1952)

“We’ll all be rooned,” said Hanrahan
In accents most forlorn,
While sitting in the Lower House,
One chilly Monday morn.

“One Nation’s on a bloody roll,
And Hanson’s smilin’ wide,
While Ashby’s with the NRA,
Donations cut and dried.”

“The National Party’s gone insane,
With Joyce the leading clown.
Their leader doesn’t stand a chance
While that dumb mug’s around.”

“The minor parties are a joke,
Claim they’re misunderstood.
The only thing they all agree?
The money’s bloody good!”

“Labor just can’t take a trick,
They should be on a win,
But Shorten just can’t seem to get
His word out through the din.”

“Now Anning’s done his party trick
And belted that young bloke.
Has he been told off by the beak?
Not likely! It’s a joke!”

“The punters all have had enough,
And reckon they have seen,
Enough of our shenanigans.
They’ve built a guillotine!”

“It’s time for us to all take stock,
And settle down to lead,
To be the managers they want!
The managers they need.”

“Fred reckons that he’ll move a bill,
To set things back to straight,
But soon we’ll all be off to lunch,
So it’ll have to wait.”

“Down in our private bar there’s wine
For some and others, beer.
I reckon that Fred’s bill will not
See light of day this year.”

“We’ll all be rooned,” said Hanrahan
As he gazed around the room.
“Election’s coming bloody quick,
And it’ll be our doom!”

Some info about John O’Brien, author of the rather droll and very Australian original poem, is available at

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