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.”