We have several people who like to perform the two poems mentioned by Jennie G. "There's Only The Two Of Us Here" by bush poet Edward Harrington, is often performed, with lots of audience participation, by Robert Lennard at my folk club. Both are good if done by candle light too - heh heh!

I camped one night in an empty hut on the side of a lonely hill;
I didn't go much on empty huts, but the night was awful chill.
So I boiled my billy and had me tea, and seen that the door was shut,
Then I went to bed in an empty bunk by the side of the old slab hut.

It must have been about twelve o'clock – I was feeling cosy and warm –
When at the foot of me bunk I see a horrible ghostly form.
It seemed in shape to be half an ape with a head like a chimpanzee,
But wot the 'ell was it doin' there, and wot did it want with me?

You may say, if you please, that I had the D.Ts or call me a crimson liar,
But I wish you had seen it as plain as me with its eyes like coals of fire!
Then it gave a moan and a horrible groan that curdled me blood with fear,
And "There's only the two of us ere," it ses, "there's only the two of us 'ere!"

I kept one eye on the old hut door and one on the awful brute;
I only wanted to dress meself and get to the door and scoot.
But I couldn't find where I'd left me boots, so I hadn't a chance to clear,
And "There's only the two of us here," it moans, "there's only the two of us here!"

I hadn't a thing to defend meself, not even a stick or stone;
And "There's only two of us here!" it ses again, with a horrible groan
I thought I'd better make some reply, though I reckoned me end was near;
"By the holy smoke, when I find me boots there'll only be one of us here!"

I get me hands on me number tens and out of the door I scoots,
And I lit the whole hillside up with the sparks from my blucher boots.
So I've never slept in a hut since then, and I tremble and shake with fear
When I think of that horrible form wot moaned "There's only the two of us here!"