Gordon Bok – Plastic Container Of Plonk (Guitar)

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I remember the days that we used to go fishing

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After the whiting around Skirmish Point

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With a carton of stubbies, a bucket of yabbies

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And worms that we dug from all over the joint

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And a plastic container of plonk

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And a plastic container of plonk

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Remember the day old Charlie got blotto

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And fell all about in a tangle of lines

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He was singing his head off and whirling his sinker

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And while he was having a wonderful time

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He spilled me container of plonk

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He spilled me container of plonk

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Now it splashed all about and some fell in the bucket

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And the yabbies all went on a beautiful spree

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They drank me rough red and got tight as old Charlie

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Arguing and singing, left nothing for me

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Of me plastic container of plonk

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Of me plastic container of plonk

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We were baiting with yabbies all well marinated

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And waving their claws as they went on their way

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And the whiting all heard of this marvellous tucker

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And came in their thousands from all round the Bay

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To indulge in some yabbies and plonk

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To indulge in some yabbies and plonk

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Now our creels were soon full, so we started off homeward

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With a teetotal nephew to manage the car

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And the whiting all rose to surface to thank us

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For the new taste sensation that came in a jar

                        C
Me plastic container of plonk

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Me plastic container of plonk

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So don't talk to me about burleying whiting

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Just take a tip from an old fisherman

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Get some rough red and before you go fishing

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Tip a good slosh in the bait-holding can

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From your plastic container of plonk

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Your plastic container of plonk