Cunt of the Country
[Verse 1]
England’s got a crown on coin
Big bloke sittin’ in a castle joint
“Kingdom” stamped on every tongue
All proper, polished, prim and plumb
Down here it’s flies and heat
Sunburn, thongs, and busted seats
Same old suits in a flash new front
Country run by a grinning kunt (yeah)
[Chorus]
Australia, you bloody beauty
Wave the flag, then take your cut
Laugh so hard it hurts your ribs
We’re ruled by a prize-grade kunt
Ozzie, okka, call it what you want
Still a country with a crownless front
Raise your tin to the big tall stunt
Australia, land of the kunt
[Verse 2]
BBQ smoke, backyard yarns
Footy scars and filthy barns
“Mate, it’s fine, she’ll be right”
While they sell our water in the night
Desert red and ocean blue
Paper laws they bend in two
Smile for the camera, play the runt
Shake that hand, you bought a kunt (oi)
[Chorus]
Australia, you bloody beauty
Wave the flag, then take your cut
Laugh so hard it hurts your ribs
We’re ruled by a prize-grade kunt
Ozzie, okka, call it what you want
Still a country with a crownless front
Raise your tin to the big tall stunt
Australia, land of the kunt
[Bridge]
[Didgeridoo drone under spoken vocal]
Hear that low, long, lonely sound
Old bones humming through the ground
This place bigger than the front
Bigger than one useless kunt
[Chorus]
Australia, you bloody beauty
Wave the flag, then take your cut
Laugh so hard it hurts your ribs
We’re ruled by a prize-grade kunt
Ozzie, okka, shout it from the pub
Laugh, complain, then fill your cup
We stay loud, we stay blunt
Australia, land of the kunt
Written, produced - Rick Dean
Full commercial usage rights available.