My Right Hand Man

Let's go back to 1990; it's not so far away

Where with each misty morning dawns a more exciting day

Peace and love are everywhere, defeating hate and greed

Thatcher is resigning

Germans are uniting

Even that Mandela fella's freed;

There's never been a better time to lead.

Here in 1990, Australia's doing well

No child lives in poverty (as far as we can tell)

And all I hear across the land's a chorus of content

And positive appraisal

And love for Bob and Hazel

Yes, I'm a hit with each constituent

And unemployment's only [cough] percent.

It's a comfy bloody country

Comfy and relaxed

Not too bloody up itself

Or too highly taxed

It's a lovely bloody system

That I try to understand

But I don't really get it

I give much of the credit -

I'm indebted to my right-hand man,

To my right-hand man.

My right-hand man's a charmer, the smoothest of the smooth

He's got a nut for every bolt, a tongue for every groove,

A pleasurer as Treasurer, creating harmony

On the economic levers

And he loves the true believers

He's the linchpin in my winning dynasty:

With him around, there's not much use for me!

... Of course, he's quite peculiar, if that's for me to say,

A little un-Australian in his own endearing way

I take him to the footy, and his eyes aren't on the ball!

And in his private parlour

He plays the works of Mahler

The strangest sound's cascading down the hall:

It doesn't sound like Billy Thorpe at all!

It's a comfy bloody country

'Cos we know what's in our heart

Beer and boots, not wine and suits

Cricket - not art!

It's a lovely bloody system

And I'll lead it while I can

Just a bloke and his mates

But if you wanna talk rates

Just look for the midnight tan

On my right-hand man.