- Sample Data-Articles
สถานีที่ 222 กลอน Poem
I’ve travelled down some lonely roads Both crooked tracks and straight
An’ I’ve learned life’s noblest creed Summed up in one word, “Mate”
I’m thinking back across the years,
(A thing I do of late)
An’ this word sticks between my ears You’ve got to have a mate.
Someone who’ll take you as you are Regardless of your state
An’ Stand as firm as Ayers Rock Because ‘e is your mate.
Me mind goes back to 43, To slavery and ‘ate,
When man’s one chance to stay alive Depended on ‘is mate.
With bamboo for a billie-can An’ bamboo for a plate,
A bamboo paradise for bugs, Was bed for me and me mate.
You’d slip and slither through the mud An’ curse your rotten fate
But then you’d hear a quiet word: “Don’t drop your bundle mate.”
An’ though it’s all so long ago This truth I ‘ave to state:
A man don’t know what lonely means, Til ‘e has lost his mate.
And so to all who ask us why
We keep these special dates
Like Anzac Day, I answer: “Why?” “We’re thinking of our mates.”
An’ when I’ve left the driver’s seat An handed in my plates,
I’ll tell old Peter at the door: “I’ve come to join me mates.”