They were forthright days when Jim was born,
When they called a spade a spade.
And statesmen held in lofty scorn
he trickster's sticky trade.
For their eyes were clear and their views were strong,
And they'd be no party's too!
And big, bluff Jim of Maribyrnong
Learned wisdom in this school.
For black was black, and white was white,
When good Victoria reigned,
And argument made no wrong right,
No demagogue explained
That good might ever come of wrong,
Or black be painted white,
When big, bluff Jim of Maribyrnong
Went out to fight the fight.
'Twas thus Jim learned his politics;
And he's little changed today;
For he failed to learn those subtle tricks
That modern 'statesmen' play.
To aid the folk who'd suffered long
Thro' tyranny's base laws,
Marched big, bluff Jim of Maribyrnong,
Staunch for the Labor cause.
But times have changed a deal of late,
And the 'art' of politics;
And they say that Jim is out of date,
And will not learn new tricks.
But still unswayed by wrangling throng,
Forthright and conscience free,
Goes simple Jim of Maribyrnong
With his crude, blunt honesty.