Over the years we
traveled far
On our own, in a rented car
As we got older, it became exhausting
Forget about how much it was costingWe drove on the wrong side
of the road
Our suitcases became too much of a load
We were always lost and always late
Missing a date and relying on fate
We struggled with
the native tongue
Of the people we were among
So one day we made very sure
That we would switch to an escorted tour
Our flight was met
by a knowledgeable guide
Who led us for a choreographed ride
With fellow travelers of the English
tongue
From the Commonwealth widespread and
far-flung
Although English is
English, it was unfamiliar
Many of the words and sounds were not
similar
To the way we had been taught
So in confusion we were caught
We resorted to gestures of the hand
But into trouble it was easy to land
Although idioms,
slang, and vernacular
Make conversations truly spectacular
Different fingers for different zingers
Means misunderstanding which lingers
Words like bingle, bonzer, chook, and
baccy
Seemed to us Yanks a wee bit tacky
But by any other name a rose
Smells the same to the nose
I suppose
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