Johnny (aka we don’t love you anymore)


I don’t love you anymore

See the writing’s on the wall

You promised me the world and then…

You won the election.

And I can’t take it anymore

You say we’re rich but we are poor

And no one seems to know the score…

The truth you are stretching.

Oooh Johnny, ooh Johnny

Johnny be good be kind and true.

Ooh Johnny, oooh Johnny,

What were we thinking when we left it up to you?

There was a window don’t you see?

You could have made apologies

You could have helped the refugees – to find a home

But you acted selfishly,

When you took the dignity

Out of calling this Australia our home

Oooh Johnny, oooh Johnny

Johnny be good be kind and true.

Oooh Johnny, oooh Johnny,

What were we thinking when we left it up to you?

Put Howard on heroin – and then see how he shakes

In the condition of poverty created by his fuck ups

My mistake- I shouldn’t swear but it’s hard to remember

Manners and graces and putting cutlery in all the right places

When you’re worried for your family

You’re worried for your friends

You’re worried about worrying and the cancer that it sends

I don’t wanna be a monarchist – I hate the GST

May this country be a place that finds a home for refugees

We’re sick of all the lies,

The double plays and mass deceptions

The greasy little wedges that you use to win elections

It’s not helping out the battlers

It’s not made this country great

So I’m sorry Mr Howard but you’re past your use-by-date

As you ride off on your pony,

Let us pause and just reflect

On the legacy you leave us

The years of neglect

But we’ve only got a minute

To tell your story with Ray

‘Cause you signed away your airtime with the F.T.A

And living in the harbour must be alright?

But how does a man go to sleep at night?

When he’s gone a little overboard and told a few lies

We’re all waiting for the thunderbolt that’s coming from the skies

And the shadows of the weapons

That the Texan didn’t find?

When you’re walking in the morning

Does it weigh upon your mind?

Do you wonder just a little

How it’s gonna be next year?

When someone else has got your job

And you’ll be outta there!


Pack up your mate-ship – you’re not my friend

words and music – simon price

music – scotty lewington and sean nihill

Creative Commons: Attribution