What are the wild waves saying now that their lengths are changed?
In a manner most dismaying are the stations now aranged.
And I twist and twirl and twiddle at the knobs, then, with a screech
Come sounds of a sobbing fiddle and a League of Nations speech,
Or the Abyssinian crisis with the football field's alarms,
Or the fat stock market prices mixed up with stuff by 'Brahms.'
More for my money truly in these daft days I get.
Since the waves become unruly and the solo's a duet:-
From 3HA and 3DB, or 3LO and 7NT,
From 3AR and 5CK. Sounds mingle in the cutest way:
'You are listening now . . . to a song by Bach . . .
On the Jersey cow . . . 'Hahk, Hahk, the Lahk!'
On the cult of the tomato . . .
My cutie says . . . Scratched for the Cup . . .
Von Plonken plays . . . Prime wethers up . . .
With a 'cello obligato . . .'

What are the wild waves saying, now that their paths o'erlap?
And the trumpet's brazen braying breaks in on the solemn chap
Who tell the listening nation how flames of war arise;
But a strident Sydney station yells, 'Smoke gets in your eyes.'
And you'll note if you're observant that, spite of all you say,
Your boss, the Civil Servant, goes on his own sweet way;
He deplores the sad disaster when your set so misbehaves;
But the servant rules the master, and choas rules the waves.
From 3HA and 3DB, from 3LO and 7NT,
From 3AR and 5CK. Sounds mingle in the quaintest way.
But in a while you cease to smile,
For the thing's no longer funny.
Listener, be wise. Pray, realise
You get more for your money.