It was for the annual spitting contest, of all Australia
They were all well trained, not contemplating any failure
Each proudly had used the previous heats, as an easy trailer
Now, eagerly awaiting the starters call, over the loud hailer

First to take his stance, was foreign named Michelle Le Gance
Famous for his running approach, just like an Emu's dance
Who'd recently won the Normandy contest, over in sunny France
A deep regurgitated rumble spitter, not without a chance

Second in line was a pasty Pom, by the name of Bob McCobb
He was renowned in Yorkshire, as a right old bloody slob
But could spit the pants off, any upper dandy righteous nob
And had been backed into favourite, by many an English bob

Third in line was a skinny Aussie by the name of Darling Danny
His family called him a lot of names, and this was one of many
Casually listening through the earphones, of his little tranny
Watched closely by the folks, and his treasured little Granny

The Frenchman raced and let fly, a thin wavering looking golly
Something like a half swallowed, and masticated chewed old lolly
His aim was off, the wind had changed, too late he saw the folly
After winding around his head, it landed on a woman's brolly

Bob stood still, as was his will, and postulated before he spat
He would aim high, up to the sky, and miss all spectators hats
Hoping that his guile would send it miles before going splat
so it did travelling forty miles, before hitting Piper's Flat

The crowd stood hushed, as everyone rushed up from the busy town
They'd all come to see Darling Danny, the lad from Darling Downs
The Norwesterly wind was so strong, and so very well renowned
His spit hit some turbulance, breaking the drought in Bordertown

And that's how a young skinny log splitter, became the worlds
record spitter!