June bustles the flowers and stretches the hours,
But January pulls on his coat.
June tells fruit to grow and the warm breezes blow,
But January has a sore throat.
Under June’s bright blue skies the swallows will fly,
But January never sees these.
In June we’ll eat strawberries covered in cream,
But January brings us a sneeze.
But let’s go on a plane and leave this cold rain.
We’ll see January far from these shores.
Australians say: 'Well, welcome. G’day.
Our January’s better than yours.'
For the sun’s shining high in their lovely blue sky,
And in sunshine the birds love to sing.
When their leaves turn to gold and it starts to get cold,
The north of our world has its spring.
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