We have an old cottage, it's more of a shack;

the roof's a bit leaky, the dunny's out back.

The mice make nests in the stuffed old sofa –

that's Dad's favourite spot (he's a bit of a loafer).

He likes to write songs and read lots of books

while Mum catches dinner and then she cooks.

She reels in fish and also shoots rabbits; 

living off the land is one of her habits.

Our favourite meal is her casserole dish;

it tastes so yummy – it's very delish.

I peel the spuds and then shell the peas;

I try to be helpful, my aim is to please.

"Many hands make light work" is my motto,

though I'd be more help if I won Lotto.

I could pay to fix the roof – plug up the leaking,

then sort those floorboards to stop them creaking.

My sister, who's older, says I am a geek,

but she has piercings and looks like a freak.

We tease each other, but there are hugs too;

she knows what to say when I'm feeling blue.

Dad is so funny, his stories are cool;

I sit close beside him on my little stool.

Mum plays her guitar and we sing the verses;

it's all very peaceful: no moans and no curses.

We'll never be rich or have a flash home; 

we're a family-of-four (plus our garden gnome).

This love will always hold us together,

through sunny days or really bad weather.

That sounds so soppy but it is still true –

we've all got each other to see us through. 

Well, that was a while ago, I'm sad to say.

Our Mum got rebellious and ran away.

Dad became devious, scamming by email.

My sister pushed drugs – she ended up in jail.

I did win Lotto, but it all came too late;

our shack fell down so I moved interstate.

I hope you don't believe that sorry tale?

Of course it didn't end with such an epic fail.

I was just pretending – I make things up. 

Dad's muse is with me; I drank from his cup.

We lived happily then bought a bigger home –

it's filled with grandkids (plus our garden gnome).