Maryann was a jokester
She lived the other side of the black stump.
She spent half her days on a combine harvester
The other on a stump jump plough.
The farm was her life
Morning till night was tilling one day
Harvesting the next.
Her dad decided on her twenty-first birthday
It was time she saw the world.
He gave her a ticket to go and see
The big city at the end of the line.
She landed there and was all amazed
So many people and so much noise.
There was no shortage of callow-faced youth
Nor of the rich up themselves haughty.
She was invited to the Toff and Tie Ball
Dressed in her finest, combed her hair.
All went well until she opened her mouth.
Out spewed her country vernacular
A combination of bloody, struth,
Bugger me britches and workin’ me tits off
Didn’t go so well with the refined young men
Who turned away, scoffed and remarked
How quaint this girl from the country was.
Maryann the jokester
Went home to practice her vowels
Learn a little social etiquette.
She practiced every day when on the tractor
Rounding her mouth as she enunciated “I say.”
But there was no hiding from who she was
When one day in town she met her true prince
No frog in waiting but a man of true blood
Who looked at her and saw the girl who was there.
‘Be who you are,’ he said softly to her
‘Bloody oath I will.’ Said Maryann with relief.
For Maryann realised it was who she was
That endeared her to her one true love.
Maryann was a jokester, that’s who she was.