The Glenorchy Bunyip

A dragon with the head of a bulldog,

A mountain with a crop of white snow,

A blue sky over Glenorchy,

And I've got nowhere to go.

I didn't ask for your name little sister,

I didn't ask for you to come through the door.

I dreamed of a face, a curtain of lace,

An apple that had no core.

A tail with the girth of a fat man's thigh

Slid up around the corner and was burnt upon my eye,

A winter light confused my sight in Glenorchy tonight

When I thought that I had nothing to see.

So I asked the lady at 13,

Invalid at 32,

With a bottle of red, only fresh from bed,

By the letterbox.

She thinks she doesn't see

The things I think I see,

Blind by 11 and wearing her dead mother's socks.

Alright

I was hiding in the Swan Terrace garden,

I saw the to and fro-ing, come and going of the street,

There's not a lot of doing in Glenorchy of a Tuesday,

Shivering I accepted my defeat.

But as I rose up ginger I was arrested by a sight

That flickered in my periphery,

A reflection in a Hillman Hunter window,

I saw that the creature was me.

Now the heart of a monster is the heart of a child

Who never had to grow into a man -

If nobody could recognise the Bunyip of Glenorchy,

Then wherever there's a monster no-one can,

Then wherever there's a monster no-one can,

Then wherever there's a monster no-one can.