The Man from Kalamunda

‘The Man from Kalamunda’
The dawn was breaking slowly with a lovely crimson blush,
When the man from Kalamunda broke the silence of the hush,
With his awful cry of anguish, heard by people in their rush,
To get to work and try to beat the usual traffic crush.
‘God what is happening, he cried in anguish and pain,
The banks are gone, the servo’s gone, the Chinese just the same,
We have these bloody markets now, they say this is our gain,
The City reckons it’s the best way out,
They must be completely insane!
‘They tore the bloody street up to make it all one-way,
Then they tore it up again so trucks could have their way,
Then they tore it up again and the traders had no say,
Because they all went broke with rents a joke,
And nobody could afford to stay!
‘Now if you want to do some banking, this is a thing of the past,
Because you have to play the keyboard with your fingers on the glass,
And hope you hit the proper keys, or your account will empty fast,
Because there’s no such thing as a friendly teller, to help you with the smarts.
‘Now if you want to personally bank, the journey you must plan,
And provisions for the journey, they can fill a moving van,
As banks are few and far between, on leaving wave you hand,
As when you finally get there, in a long line you will stand!
‘You can do your banking on-line, the banks all readily exclaim,
Never listening to the poor old pensioners and their sad refrain,
‘I don’t have a bloody computer’ the majority all complain,
And the scammers now about me, would know that I’m fair game!
‘So we know the banks are cunning as time is on their side,
They have our bloody savings, and their directors have a hide,
That profit is their motive and to that they aim they strive,
While quality customer service, is something they despise!
‘What used to be our heritage village, the changes are profound,
With tilt-up concrete structures, now the order of the town,
And all our historical buildings, now rubble on the ground,
While our local leaders loudly proclaim,
Of this, we should be proud!
‘So, all our time is spent in complaining,
and moaning and groaning instead,
While our banks and City leaders say,
Its time these old bastards were dead!
Watto!