with apologies and thanks to John O’Brien
"We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, In accents most forlorn, Below the tower with turning fan, One frosty Monday morn.
The other farmers stood about, With hands across their ears, And wondered how to pull it out, Within the next few years.
"It’s just a fad” said one of them; "It’s stupid, crook and sad, That ever since John Howard lost out It’s gone from good to bad."
"It's just the thing," said Greg Combet, With which astute remark He ran to his white government car And headed out the park.
Said Premier Ted "We’ll have a ban, We’ll put them out of sight.” "We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, "Before he puts things right."
But meanwhile back in Sydeney Atop a corporate tower, Grant King collects the MRET fee From intermittent power.
And farming here is risky work As learned men explain But farming wind is just a lurk Since others bear the pain.
The City Swells come on our land Where farmers sow and reap And leave their turbines on a stand That causes loss of sleep.
But Hahrahan had made a vow And others saw the trend “They’ll all be rooned, its cooling now, This caper’s going to end.”