The Aussie Dunny Poem.

The Service Staion trade was slow the owner sat around
with sharpened knife and cedar stick piled shavings on the ground.

No modern facilites had they there the log across the rill
led to shack marked his and hers the sat against the hill

"Where is the ladies lavatory sir"?, the owner leaning back
said not a word but whittled on and nodded towards the shack

With quickened step she entered there but only stayed a minute
until she screamed just like a snake or spider might be in it

with startled look and beet red face she bounded through the door
and headed quickly for the car just like three sheila,s did before

of course we all desired to know what made the girls all do
the thing they did and then we found the whittling owner knew

a speaking system he,d devised to make the thing complete
he tied a speaker on the wall beneath the toilet seat

he.d wait until the girls got set and then the devilish tike
would stop his whittling long enough to speak into the mike

and as she sat, a voice below struck terror, fright and fear,
will you please use the other hole
we,re painting under here.