© Merv Webster
Author: Merv Webster
Blue was feeling melancholy and was far from feeling jolly
by the window of his quarters on that moonlight night in May.
The old mate was broken hearted since young Jess and he had parted;
that’s the Jillaroo from Bancroft who had jilted him that day.
And old Blue would really miss her, as she was a bonzer kisser,
and he told this to a large green frog perched on the window ledge.
This poor Ringer felt quite horrid, as his hand held up his forehead,
and he gave the frog the run down like it was some privilege.
“Do you have a girlfriend froggy that just leaves your mind all foggy
When she puckers up to kiss you and she makes you feel on high?
As a kisser Jess was real hot and I reckon by a long shot,
she was up their with the best of them … except perhaps for Di.
“She’s the blonde girl that’s a Nanny, on the place where my mate Danny
breaks in horses every summer, and a looker that’s for sure.
Mate this Di she was a goer and I’m glad I got to know her,
as that girl could suck your lips off and she’d leave you wanting more.
“But we broke up in the summer, which I thought was a real bummer,
so I hitched up with her cousin who’d come out to stay a while.
This gal was a city floozie and her name I think was Suzie
and her tongue it darned near choked me, but she certainly had style.
“Then she went back to the city, which I thought was a real pity,
still I met young Katie Swenson at the rodeo that night.
Sucking face was that girl’s passion, but I soon went out of fashion,
as I found she kissed near anything that came within her sight.
“So it’s hard mate just to pick one that I fancied as the best fun,
as they all bring back fond mem’ries, but they all slipped through my grip.”
He just sat there quite dejected and it came quite unexpected
when a moth alighted on the top of poor old Bluey’s lip.
The frog’s tongue flew into action, but his aim was down a fraction
and it rattled the old tonsils in the back of Bluey’s throat.
The old Ringer’s eyes went teary and his sight went kind of bleary
and the words that bushman uttered I’m afraid I cannot quote.
To this day it’s told by bush folk and believe me this is no joke,
It is ritual when Bluey goes to town and hits the grog;
That he tells the same sick story, how no girls can much the glory
of that moonlight night in May when he was tongue kissed by a frog.
© Bush Poet and Ballad Writer -Merv Webster