Chords for Mick the Master Farter

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [A] _ _ [E] _ _ [B] _ _ [E] _
_ _ I first met him in the classroom [A] back in _ 1963.
[B] We seemed to get off pretty [A] good.
We were mates, [E] Mick and me.
He wasn't such a big [A] kid even back then at the start.
[B] And he wasn't all that clever either, but Jesus [E] he could fart.
_ I first found that out in class one [A] day when things were going pretty slow.
[B] And just to keep us all amused, [A] Mick let this [E] fuckin' ripper go.
_ He should have been there.
[A] Look, I'd describe it if I could.
[B] But I'd just turn around and I said, hey Mick, you're [E] fuckin' good. _ _ _
_ And at the inter-school grand final [A] on the rugby field that time,
[B] we were getting beaten.
[A] They were 12 and [E] we were 9 and playing with 3 yards from our goal line
[A] when the referee called a scrum [B] and Mick said,
don't worry fellas, we've as good [E] as got it won.
So we just locked ourselves down in the [A] scrum and we held each other's nose
[B] and Mick, our little hooker, he [A] let this fuckin' [E] ripper go.
It stung their nose and it burnt their [A] eyes and it even scorched the grass.
[B] But I twigged right then and there, he had a double [E] jointed [D#] arse.
_ [A]
Mick, me mate the master [E] farter, _ put the art back into fartin' with his custom [B] tailored farts.
[A] Mick, me mate the [E] master farter, broke new ground in breakin' wind [B] with his double [E] jointed arse.
_ [A] _ _ [E] _ _ [B] _ _ [E] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ And it was just a couple of years later, [A] we both went to see Kamal.
[B] It was a really poshy sort of [A] show in this great big [E] bloody hall.
And all the blokes were dressed like penguins [A] and you should have seen the sorts.
[F#] And Kamal [B] himself wore a sheila's dress like a bloody [E] black boy George.
And we were all locked in there like [A] sardines for the show to get underway.
[B] But the tuba player didn't [A] lob.
He'd booked off [E] crook that day and Kamal said,
without a tuba player, [A] I cannot commence the show.
[B] So old Mick chanced up and said, Sambo mate, I'll have a [E] fuckin' go.
_ _ _ _ _ Well from then on in, I honestly [A] thought that the whole show would be ruined.
But [B] he just winked at me and picked that tuba [A] up just like he knew what [E] he was doing.
Then the maestro tapped his little [A] stick to tell the band to start.
[B] Mick just shut his eyes and cocked his leg and then [E] began to fart. _
Well you could hurt a pin [A] drop that night there in the hall.
[B] And it's hard to say who sounded [A] best, Mick fartin' [E] or Kamal.
Then the audience just went apeshit.
[A] They cheered and clapped and stood.
[B] And Kamal smiled as if to say, hey Mick you're [E] fuckin' good.
_ _ [A] Mick, me mate the [E] master farter,
_ he's back in to fartin' with his custom [B] tailored farts.
[A] Mick, me mate the master [E] farter,
_ and his true pitch perfect [B] calibrated double [E] jointed arse.
_ _ [A] _ _ [E] _
_ [B] _ _ [E] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ Well good news travels fast it [A] seems and it wasn't very long.
[B] Before Mick got this midnight phone call [A] from Ben Lexen and [E] Alan Bond.
They said Mick, we got this specialist [A] job and we're prepared to pay ya.
[F#] Mick, old son, would you [B] consider fartin' [E] for Australia?
_ We'll just prop you on our brand new [A] yacht when there's no sea breeze [B] blowin'.
And get Mick the master farter to [A] start her and keep the [E] bastard goin'.
So Mick went into trainin' [A] on sausage rolls and pies
[B] and Vegemite and Foster's beer and a scholarship [E] from Heinz. _ _ _
_ _ The world had never seen [A] before a yacht so finely groomed
[B] or a crew so fit and young and [A] strong or an arse so [E] finely tuned.
The Yanks weren't even in the [A] race, not even in the same class.
[B] What with Ben Lexen and his secret keel and Mick's fuel [E] injected arse.
Well he come back a bloody hero didn't he?
[A] The old Australian boy.
[B] And the government commissioned this bloke to do [A] a big statue [E] of his coit.
And I can still see Mick standin' [A] there when they conferred his knighthood.
[B] And Bob Hawke pinneted it on [E] sayin', hey Mick, you're fuckin' good. _
_ [A] Mick, me make the master farter.
[E] _
_ Class back in the fartin' with his designer [B] label farts.
[A] Mick, me make the [E] master farter.
[B] With his true pitch [F#m] perfect calibrated turbo-thrusted fuel injected
winds [E] protected double jointed arse.
[C#] _ _ [A] _ _ [F#] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ [F#m] _ _ _ [E] _ _ _
_ [A] _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _