‘Cause Names Don’t Really Matter                                   

Four hundred miles south, the border town of Wangaratta.

A nowhere place way north of here is called Oodnadatta.

Then there is the home of the Mighty Eels, the city Parramatta.

Who the hell cares what a Town’s called, ‘cause names don’t really matter.

And why when there’s a loud noise, do all the birds take off and scatter?

And let’s not forget the dirty old men who see a bikini clad girl and can’t stop starin’ atta.

And lastly, there are the Ladies, the lean, the plump and the fatter.

Who gossip ‘round the neighbourhood, truth is, names don’t really matter.

They keep the rumours rumbling by adding exaggeration to the chatter.

A perfect case in point, the suburb, and people of Cabramatta

The last five letters say it all, ‘cause names can sometimes shatter

Be proud of wherever you come from, remember names don’t really matter.

Now the message in the poem it ain’t philosophical or deep

And preaching to some people is like talking to dumb sheep

And a promise ain’t worth nothing if you don’t intend to keep

Let’s not forget the old proverb, what you sow is what you reap.