LYRIC FOR SALE

By Jacko Dale

Sun’s coming down,
Light grows dimmer,
Traffic slowing,
Tips closing the gates,
Cement works not sending them out,
Just crawling back in—
The empty oversize,
Over‑mass vehicles
All rolling home
From carrying
Those giant wind turbines,
Pilot cars still in pursuit.

I head out,
The yard just
on yonder
to the fire pit,
For a few coldies for the night.

Crossing to the pit,
I hear the road trains
revving up,
Taking their loads
down the Hamilton Highway.

Did they hear about the elephants—
Stampede from Mount Elephant,
Tore the Highway clean apart.
Gotta dodge a few holes,
And don’t go past
the Elephant Hotel
without a beer.
Check the roads, mate.

As I write,
Merve calls in for a beer,
Around the fire pit.
Johnny not far behind,
Another drink at the pit
In Fyansford,
Along the Hamilton Highway.

Praying for the drivers
heading up from Fyansford,
Down the Hamilton Highway,
Down the Hamilton Highway.

As we share the week’s noise,
A road train pulls in—
Brakes screaming loud.
We all look up.

It’s a Mack,
Johnny shouts.
Old Jerry steps down,
Comes running over.

“I seen them!” he yells.
“Seen the Elephant!
They tore the roads up
near the Rokewood pub.
I was called in there for dinner—
Floored the Mack,
Couldn’t believe
what I dodged.
All over the road to Fyansford,
Road torn to bits.
Nobody believed me,
So I drove straight here
to see my mates,
Who know I don’t lie,
To tell the Elephant tale—
The crushed road,
The potholes
only an Elephant could make.
For God’s sake,
give me a beer!
Give me a bed—
Tomorrow I’ve gotta go,
Gotta head to Hamilton
via the Hamilton Highway.”