Water is of the little,
Rain is rather scant,
Dehydration of the people,
And death comes to our plants.

Drought now lives among us,
Down here in Australia's lair,
Water restrictions are higher,
And no one seems to care.

Who cares about our water?
Or how we waste it all?
They won't care until it's gone,
When there's no water left to fall.

Australians need to know,
Of the dangers we may face,
Because if we fail to understand,
We may no longer have this place.

My eyes water,
Smoke grasps my breath,
A steady hold,
Expecting my death.

Fire, smoke, ash,
Winds passing them along,
Roaring, blazing fire,
Singing it's ****** song.

No bush nor grass,
Is any longer safe,
It yearns our surrender,
To steal and end our faith.

We can't defend forever,
We'll run out of supplies,
Please save us before our end,
Before the fire cries.

Delicate,
Fragile,
Exterior,
It's own style.

Sitting next to those,
Who are the same,
But unique in the eye,
Of a loving dame.

A cute little tea set,
Identified by spots,
A woman yearning dearly,
For these matching pots.

Staring at the cups,
Along with their price,
Which seems to be as much,
As a god-worthy sacrifice.

But regardless of the cost,
The woman had the will,
To save up all her income,
Just for this thrill.

And that is what she did,
She got that tea set,
But to drink out of it,
She never let.

She couldn't handle it,
The risk of the task,
To drink from a cup,
Was way too much to ask.

So instead it stood,
As a lovely display,
In the cabinet of her daughter,
And it still stands there today.

Compensation,
A man's frustration,
A horrid creation,
Feels like truncation.

Flanders Fields,
Where dead men lie,
And mothers mourn,
And children cry.

Flanders Fields,
Where living men sigh,
Reading mates' names,
Their friend, an ally.

Flanders Fields,
Where land is dry,
In mid-summer,
Of early July.

Flanders Fields,
Where children spry,
Asking themselves,
They were gone, why?

Flanders Fields,
Where dead men lie,
And mothers mourn,
And children cry.

This is simple,
I promise you,
That to my word,
I will be true.

It's easy,
Simple as pi,
3.1415,
Step up, don't be shy.

Don't back down now,
You're in too deep,
Keep pushing through,
And you'll play to keep.

This is simple,
I promise you,
So believe in yourself,
You'll have a breakthrough!

Show me an indicator,
Of what suggests a traitor,
I'll be an investigator,
For this perpetrator.

We have a common denominator,
I promise, it's for the greater,
Good, this will be a creator,
From this treacherous infiltrator.

Because sooner or later,
You'll have to cater,
The need of this gladiator,
So please, show me an indicator.