By Mike Carlton and Ben Pobje
I am the very model of an immigration minister
In charge of refugees and matters maritime and sinister.
At school I studied hard at maths and lessons alphabetical,
I learnt the scriptures backwards and the canon evangelical.
I made my rise to greatness from political obscurity
Conflating xenophobia with national security.
Endlessly I preached the word to ordinary Australians
Arousing fears their homes were being overrun by aliens.
I blamed the Labor gang for this invasion of Muhammadans
Who wear the burqa, pray to Mecca, starve themselves at Ramadan.
Fanatics who would have us all obeying their sharia laws
They’d ban the Easter Bunny and abolish dear old Santa Claus.
But! Now that I’m the minister I’ve vowed to turn the boats
I’ve got a three-star general to keep our borders safe and sound.
The bleeding hearts and Greenies call me cruel and confrontational
But I riposte: “My lips are sealed on matters operational.”
When Jakarta once accused me of egregious hypocrisy
I shrugged my shoulders lightly and replied: “Well, that’s
And though it’s not much help in dealing with the Indonesians,
I quote the Bible’s letters of St Paul to the Ephesians.
With humanity and decency my only motivation
I am standing resolutely at the frontiers of the nation.
And armoured in self-righteousness I spurn each rude inquisitor
For I’m the very model of an immigration minister.