They often ask me in England why I sigh
Because the grass is the deepest green-
And so many flowers grow with names I don't know
The gardens beautiful like I've never seen-
Where it ever so often rains again and again
And they don't seem to have a clue at all-
That away back home often as dry as a bone
And way less rain does fall-
Without a doubt they've not heard of drought
Or bones of cattle that died of thirst-
But here in the Untied Kingdom there's
Always a cloud or two ready so to burst-
They even have a white Christmas here
And seasons that are reliable and true-
Yet they say hello and not g'day
How I admire this place I do-
So many stories I read in books
As a child are all here for real-
The colors here ever so deep and bright
Here don't think that's a big deal-
History here is everywhere to be found
So far Way back before my country begun-
I am proud to be an Australian through and through
But it's so beautiful here and then some-
The greenest fields spread like the largest bed
And ever so oldest building stand so grand-
But why I look about and often sigh
I feel that they just don't understand-