In me previous life well I was the wife of a farmer from Fogartys Creek.
I was the type who did everything right: I was passive and placid and meek.
There was nothin' to learn where he was concerned - just act as if he was a king
(and keep sayin' 'no' when he fumbled below 'til I had me that little gold ring).
Well, he had me alright on our weddin' night - been better if he was a bull!
Some honeymoon, me stuck in the room and him at the pub gettin' full.
We moved the next week out to Fogarty's Creek and I was a farmer's wife.
I cooked and I cleaned and six babies I weaned. I'd no time to think about life.
He got up at dawn, by six he was gone and for twelve hours a day no-one saw 'im
Bar the sheep and the cows and the 'overing crows...whatever I said useta bore him.
So I learnt to just listen and keep me mouth shut and say 'yes dear' and 'no dear' and 'maybe'
And when now and then he behaved like all men it was Bingo: another new baby.
The years passed away, the same thing everyday 'til I was just touchin' on forty.
I'd more time for readin' and found meself dreamin' of things that I knew were quite naughty.
I'd picture a man who held out his hand and said "Come with me down to the creek.
Love me, me beauty, with lust - not duty, not passive 'n placid 'n meek"
Well, I heard our kids say to their father the day that the eldest went into the army.
"Hey, Get 'er away on a long holiday! Mum seems to've gone a bit barmy!
She's pluckin' her brows and neglectin' the cows and she's buying new dresses to wear.
She stares at the moon and she's wearin' perfume and she's puttin' red stuff in her hair.
Well, their father agreed that there was a need for a doctor - that much he could tell.
But them medical morons were all much the same and a vet would do equally well.
Well, he came to the house when they were all out and I knew the first minute I saw him
Whatever I did for this lonely young kid it would most certainly not bore him.
He was not Valentino or even Clark Gable but who cared about that bloody 'ell.
As I found out that night me husband was right and a vet could do equally well.
I lay back on the grass, looked up at the stars, didn't mind all the bindi-is,
I felt warm I felt wet - I thanked god for the vet, I felt wicked and wanting and wise.
***
In my previous life well I was the wife of the farmer at Fogartys Creek.
He's still there a-farmin' - there's nothin' can harm 'im...I visit me kids every week.
Me vet lost his job but we make a few bob when we're not makin' something much nicer!
So if your life is hell, go TO IT me girl or you'll go to your grave none the wiser.
