When the summer sun is shining on Australia's happy land
When countless spires of smoke inspires many a solemn band
You'll see Australians watching their lunch go up in flames
By the smoke and the smell, you can plainly tell
It's Barbie time again
Oh, when the steaks are burning fiercely
And the smoke gets in your eyes
Oh, when the sausages taste like frightened paste
And you're driven mad with flies
It's a national institution
It's the Aussie thing to do
So come along, mate, and *** your plate
Let's have a barbecue
When the steaks are burning fiercely
And the smoke gets in your eyes
Oh, when the sausages taste like frightened paste
And you're driven mad with flies
It's a national institution
It's the Aussie thing to do
So come along, mate, and *** your plate
Let's have a barbecue
Oh, the Scotsman loves his haggis
The French eat snails and frogs
The Greeks go crackers over there
The Sackers and the Yanks love off dogs
Woo!
The Welsh just love to have a leak
The Irish love their stew
But you just can't beat the half-cooked meat
At an Aussie barbecue
When the steaks are burning fiercely
And the smoke gets in your eyes
Oh, when the sausages taste like frightened paste
And you're driven mad with flies
It's a national institution
It's the Aussie thing to do
So come along, mate, and *** your plate
Let's have a barbecue
Oh, this fly's stuck to the margarine
The bread has gone rock hard
The kids are fighting
My mozzie's a-biting
Who forgot the aerogard
There's bull ants in the esky
And the beer is running out
And what you saw in Mumsco's slaw
You just can't think about
When the steaks are burning fiercely
And the smoke gets in your eyes
Oh, when the sausages taste like frightened paste
And you're driven mad with flies
It's a national institution
It's the Aussie thing to do
So come along, mate, and *** your plate
Let's have a barbecue
To the party music, do you hear?
Oh, and when the day is over
In your homeward way you end
With a tongue that's groffy on the family potty
Many lonely hours you'll spend
You will find yourself reflecting
As many often do
Come rain or shine
It's the very last time you'll have a barbecue
When the steaks are burning fiercely
And the smoke gets in your eyes
Oh, when the sausages taste like frightened paste
And you're driven mad with flies
It's a national institution
It's the Aussie thing to do
So come along, mate, and *** your plate
Let's have a barbecue
When the steaks are burning fiercely
And the smoke gets in your eyes
Oh, when the sausages taste like frightened paste
And you're driven mad with flies
It's a national institution
It's the Aussie thing to do
So come along, mate, and *** your plate
Let's have a barbecue
So come along, mate, and *** your plate
Let's have a barbecue