Note: Aimed at an Australian audience, though I imagine similarly execrable hackneyed forms occur in other cultures and languages.
I love a well-worn cliché
Where the Snowy River reigns
We don’t need no quiche, ay,
On the Oodnagalabi Plains.
Some doggerel out of Gundagai
Old regrets we used to know
And stone the crows that fill the sky
Along the Malonglo.
Our patron saint, The Banjo,
Of Waltzing Matilda fame
Makes our very hearts glow
With his verses, both halt and lame.
Close behind is Henry Lawson
With his tales of outback life
Though goodness knows what Freud would’ve made
Of the snake and The Drover’s Wife.
The Bulletin let them have their say
And the bush bards told it true
Of characters met along the way
But no Afghan, black or Jew.
So Akubra on and pen in hand
Churn out some turgid lines
About some Never-Never land
And make sure the bastard rhymes.