I'm a dicky-dye Australian guy and me name is Blooey Schmidt. I love this sunburned country and I'm bloody proud of it And I love our simple way of life and the things we all hold dear Like V.F.L. and Big Ben Pies and foamin' Tueeze beer I love our open friendliness where a man can make good mates In fact in all Australia there's just one thing I hate:
I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
They can't speak proper English and they never seem to learn And the awful guff that they call food would make your stomach turn It's always dipped in garlic sauce or fried in olive oil I've never tasted any meself, but I bet it all tastes vile! What's wrong with good Australian food, you Slovaks and you Poles? Good healthy stuff like pie and sauce and chips and chigger rolls
'Cause I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
And the local chip shop down the street is run by a bloody Greek He's open sixteen hours a day and seven days a week And every cent that you spend there on a pie or on dumsim Helps to send back home to Greece for a bastard just like him! Oh, I never eat there meself 'cause I couldn't touch Wog meat I usually eat at the Chinese caf' that's just across the street!
'Cause I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
I was queueing down at the Registry, a-pickin' up me dole In front of me was a Yugoslav, in front of him a Pole Behind me was a Eyetalian, behind him was a Turk Those lazy migrant bastards do, they never bloody work! But in spite of what the papers say, there's work for those who want to The wife and twenty-seven kids is all the work I'm going to!
'Cause I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
So send the bastards home to Spain, and Italy and Greece And maybe when they've all gone home, we'll get some bloody peace To sit in the shade of the killabar tree and drink beer all day long And run amok with a flat-bed truck, down by the billabong And every night at twelve o'clock to show that we're not slaggards We'll stand and sing our national song, "Advance Australia", backwards!
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Copy to Clipboard: I Hate Wogs -Eric Bogle
I'm a dicky-dye Australian guy and me name is Blooey Schmidt. I love this sunburned country and I'm bloody proud of it And I love our simple way of life and the things we all hold dear Like V.F.L. and Big Ben Pies and foamin' Tueeze beer I love our open friendliness where a man can make good mates In fact in all Australia there's just one thing I hate:
I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
They can't speak proper English and they never seem to learn And the awful guff that they call food would make your stomach turn It's always dipped in garlic sauce or fried in olive oil I've never tasted any meself, but I bet it all tastes vile! What's wrong with good Australian food, you Slovaks and you Poles? Good healthy stuff like pie and sauce and chips and chigger rolls
'Cause I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
And the local chip shop down the street is run by a bloody Greek He's open sixteen hours a day and seven days a week And every cent that you spend there on a pie or on dumsim Helps to send back home to Greece for a bastard just like him! Oh, I never eat there meself 'cause I couldn't touch Wog meat I usually eat at the Chinese caf' that's just across the street!
'Cause I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
I was queueing down at the Registry, a-pickin' up me dole In front of me was a Yugoslav, in front of him a Pole Behind me was a Eyetalian, behind him was a Turk Those lazy migrant bastards do, they never bloody work! But in spite of what the papers say, there's work for those who want to The wife and twenty-seven kids is all the work I'm going to!
'Cause I hate Wogs, they live like dogs Some eat bananas and some eat frogs Soome wear turbans some wear clogs All the bloody same to me 'cause I hate Wogs.
So send the bastards home to Spain, and Italy and Greece And maybe when they've all gone home, we'll get some bloody peace To sit in the shade of the killabar tree and drink beer all day long And run amok with a flat-bed truck, down by the billabong And every night at twelve o'clock to show that we're not slaggards We'll stand and sing our national song, "Advance Australia", backwards!
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