Wollongong wenches
Must’ve done battle in the trenches
But not a rap battle
Probably one fought on the benches
At schools, bus stops, not the legal type;
Socio-political deficiencies
Have eaten at their proficiencies
Compounded by imbalances in gender
Have left relationship power in favour of the tender
Who are able to manipulate most men like a money lender.
But it’s not all their fault,
They get their power, oft confusing and unwanted,
From an industrial, working class default;
Dumb, slum, classless warfare
Houso westies with more baggage than luggage
Acridly augmented by too many men;
Blokes with smokes and tokes
Big beers and voracious leers
Their rough background
In this paltry playground
Leaves the sheilas as the wheeler-dealers;
They can pick and choose, with nothing to lose,
Save the right man, a bloke who can
A chap with a brain, left holding the can
No place in this town, for someone with a gown
Leaves all parties with a formidable frown;
Those with half a brain
Have long ago jumped on a train,
Totally sick of this culturally lost refrain.
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