the alan brough song

Tim Minchin

People canââ?¬â?¢t help but point and laugh
When I proudly show them his photograph
They stare at his obsolete wings
They donââ?¬â?¢t appreciate the songs that he sings

The joke that his pokey proboscis
Must get in the way when we kiss
But I donââ?¬â?¢t listen
I can take their flack
Itââ?¬â?¢s like water off a flightless birdââ?¬â?¢s back
For he is the one who completes me
My six foot four Kiwi

He may not have the voice of a lyrebird
He may not have the strength of a cock
He may have a primitive avian brain
Bus as everyone knows he knows loads about rock
And when people in the street want to know
What his name is he says, ââ?¬Å?Hello, Iââ?¬â?¢m Alan Broughââ?¬
Heââ?¬â?¢s my immigrant, endangered species
My six foot four Kiwi

Heââ?¬â?¢s everything a national emblem should be
If he was a fruit heââ?¬â?¢d be green and fuzzy
He should have has own TV series
My six foot four Kiwi
Heââ?¬â?¢s really tall and heââ?¬â?¢s from New Zealand