There’s a lot of twaddle written

About a saint called Pat

And artists all depict him

In a robe and pointy hat.

Australians have the nerve to sing

‘Dear saint of our Isle’

But I think that if he heard that

He’d really have to smile.

For Ireland is known far and wide

As the land of saints and scholars

But Australia is just not like that

We only worship dollars-

And sport of every kind.

We haven’t got one home-grown saint,

Though one is on the way

And until there’s another miracle

Then ‘Blessed’ she will stay.

Now Patrick was a Scotsman

Who was captured into slavery

And although he got a Guernsey

For his piety and bravery

Please don’t sing and call him our saint-

For truth to tell, he ain’t!