With an old .22 I went out for a roo
To feed up my old cattle hound
My chances were slim
with the light growing dim
For all I had left was one round
I cranked up the heat
that resembled a jeep
And drove to a tank on the run
Where roos come to drink,
that's the best place I think,
A man's almost certain for one.
I lined up a doe in the stance of a pro,
The rifle held tight in my fist.
I then held my breath,
for this roo it meant death,
I squeezed on the trigger but missed.
Then in my disgust
I threw down in the dust
That rifle and cursed at my aim
I came for a rue and that's what I will do
The old dog will eat just the same
I turned on the lights
all keyed up for a fight
And bailed up a buck kangaroo
Then armed with the stick,
I tore into him quick
Never dreaming just what he would do
He grabbed at the stick
and then started to kick
My shirt was ripped open both sides
And the next thing I knew,
as I sparred with that rue
I was minus a pair of good strides
He won every round,
I was kicked to the ground
With hoppers I thought were of steel
Then away I did shoot like
a young bandicoot
With that old kangaroo on my heels
I climbed up the tree
and that rue I could see
Went bounding away through the night
Then back to the Jeep
I did carefully creep
And passed out on the seat like a light
When I woke from my doze
I was just about froze
And aching all over to boot
My trousers and shirt are no more,
that's a cert
I arrived home in my birthday suit
Now I've knocked around in
the country and town
Cook of eating and many, that's true
But none can compare
with the scars that I bare
When I pulled on that
fucked kangaroo you