He had some land near Kundabung, close to
the Hastings River
Not enough to run some stock, but still, it
was a giver
Two hundred plants, every year, he moved
to Sydney town
Did his dealing on the phone, when his
funds were down
His mate got back from overseas, he’d
spent some time in Greece
Come up with my to Kundabung, I really
need some peace
“I can my friend, but just one night, I need to find a flat”
So they drove up there in the dark of night, their
journey filled with chat
The next day it was raining, as it had the week before
“Help me fix my tractor mate, it ain’t
running any more”
They tried to fix the tractor, but it was
all to no avail
“Just one more job to do my friend, and
then we’ll hit the trail
They drove into a clearing, where the
plants were lush and green
At first sight it was obvious, what was
happening in this scene
“I’ve been cultivating some weed my
friend, it keeps me in the blue
But the floods have washed them all away,
just what am I to do
They got some tools and cleared the grass,
the type you do not smoke
A whipper-snipper cleared the grounds, around
they had a poke
“Of two hundred plants, about ten left, I
really am annoyed
I drive up here every week, I'm broke, I’m
unemployed”
But then they heard a rustling sound, from
the bushes came the cops
“Get down on the ground you blokes, that
whipper-snipper … drop”
Arrested, charged and driven back, to
Sydney to be tried
The mate from Greece he copped a plea,
“I’m stupid”, he did cry
Sentence served, he hopped a jet, and
travelled back to Greece
The principal however, was not so keen to
make the peace
“It is not mine”, he lied and lied, “It
belongs to my mate who is not here
“And the stuff you found in my bedroom,
that's his too I'll make it clear”
But will the jury wear it, or will they see
through his charade
Intercepts of mobile calls, where he's arranging to
be paid
His mate is back, he’ll come to court, and
tell the truth about this wretch
And the principal, he’ll be off to jail,
for at least a ten year stretch
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