Have you heard the inscrutable mutable Alf,
The mannerly man with the silvery tongue?
Ever loquacious,
Smiling and gracious.
Loud in the land have his praises been sung.
He has magnetised all with his eloquent speakin'
The Great oratorical oracle, Deakin.

His somewhat sporadical radical speeches
Have over-persuaded us all, and his style
His easy urbanity
Tickles our vanity;
And we are won by his affable smile.
He captivates all with his eloquence sinister,
Does the persuasive, evasive Prime Minister.

His fine pyrotechnical technical phrases,
His grand perorations, exordiums, too,
'Spite their obscurity,
Are of a purity
And of a quality equalled by few,
And he knows all the tricks of portfol-i-o seekin',
That clever illusionist, fusionist Deakin.

But, beware of mysterious serious Alf.
His weird cabalistical, mystical call
His impetuosity,
Plus his verbosity,
Acts like a strange anaesthetic on all.
But, when you get over the charm of his speakin',
You'll come to a frangible, tangible Deakin.

You'll find an accessible cessible man,
With political frailties many as most o' them.
'Spite his euphonical
Gifts histrionical,
Critics political point, to a host o' them.
He is but a man after all and a weak 'un
A most, inexcusable fusible Deakin.

His most omnifarious various views
He'll alter to suit the occasion that pays him,
Though lacking in clarity.
Any disparity
In his fused following's powerless to daze him.
Regarded apart from his eloquent speakin',
O, what a lamentable, rentable Deakin!