Wallaby Rise

Was such a surprise

Our Probus bunch

Went there for lunch.


The soup was great

And then on each plate

Went slices of meat –

Eight vegies to eat!


(Oh! I nearly forgot!

The whole meal was hot!)


Two kinds of pud –

Tea or Coffee? Oh, good!


But I’m hearing you cry

“Is this Heaven nearby?”

Lake Glenmaggie’s the spot

Where the food’s always hot!






Ladies meeting in a friendly way,

To hear a speaker, or just have their say:

In bus or train they’ll travel some fine day

Seeing countryside and town.


Come and join us here in Cranbourne town,

We’ll banish every care and frown.

We will never ever put you down:

Cranbourne Ladies’ Probus Club


Meeting monthly, be it rain or shine.

If you get sick, we’ll send a line.

Forgot your badge? Then you must pay a fine!

Everyone will find a friend!


Come and join us at the RSL,

At morning tea, birthday cakes are swell!

We don’t let anyone stay in their shell!

At the Cranbourne Ladies Probus Club!




There’s a windswept railway station

Newly built, in Cranbourne town,

Where disembarking passengers

Look vainly up and down

For somewhere to experience

Some comfort and relief

After sixty minutes’ travel –

But it’s just beyond belief!


The P.T.C. is adamant

They’ve made a new decree –

That passengers who travel far

Are not allowed to pee!

Have you ever heard of anything

That’s more bizarre or grotty?

To think! In 1995


You must travel with a potty!







We haven’t any emus or any kangaroos.

We haven’t many tourist traps for travellers to choose,

But because we’re on a highway, we’ve trucks and cars galore

Plus coaches by the dozen bound for Phillip Island’s Shore.


We used to be a country town with High Street stores to shop in

But now a shopping centre is where the shoppers drop in.

Our Council’s gone to Berwick – we’ve been amalgamated –

Since no-one knows where Casey is – civic pride’s evaporated!

But Cranbourne’s still our home-town – we never will forget –

It’s where we’ve lived for ages –


And at least – we’re on the Met!



(can be sung to “Waltzing Matilda” if you’re game!)

Once some jolly Ashby’s Thought they’d like to emigrate

And live in the shade of an old gum tree.

So they wrote to Australia House And got a load of pamphlets

And watched Aussie programmes on the BBC.

After all their Xrays, injections and interviews,

After they’d heard from Camberwell and Kew

They embarked on the “Fairsky” one day in mid-December

And sailed for Australia, a new life –  and you!


Migrating Pommies! Migrating Pommies!

They came in their thousands And went home in twos.

If they’d all made friends like the folks who are reading this

They’d never fall a victim to the “Go Home Blues”!


The years have rushed by and swept them many different ways

Homes and jobs changed for they never said “Die”!

They made a lot of friends, some of whom were Aussies,

But they still have Pommie accents’ no matter how they try!


If you want some advice on how to deal with migrants

Give them a smile and a friendly “Hello”

Find them a job that’s not too far to travel

And they’ll know that you like them and won’t want to go!

So thank you very kindly, say all the Ashby family

We’re glad that we came to Australia’s shore

If you hear us complaining, we don’t really mean it,

We winge out of habit – it’s an old English law!


This is a revised version of the words we sang as we celebrated two years in Australia with the folks from the South Camberwell Methodist Church, who had sponsored us, and the new friends we had made in Kilsyth, where we built our first home in 1964!





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