You doubtless read the papers, And as men of observation, Of course you watch the progress Of Chinese immigration-- For thousands of these pigtail chaps In Adelaide are landing; And why they let such numbers come Exceeds my understanding. On Emerald Hill it now appears A Joss House they've erected; And they've got an ugly idol there-- It's just what I expected; And they offer nice young chickens Unto this wooden log; And sometimes with a sucking pig They go the entire hog. Now some of you, perhaps, may laugh, But 'tis my firm opinion, This colony some day will be Under Chinese dominion. They'll upset the Australian government, The place will be their own; And an Emperor with a long pigtail, Will sit upon the throne. Melbourne will be the seat of power, And then 'tis my impression, Of the stations up the country They'll quickly take possession. The squatters will be used as slaves, By the Celestial nation; And growing tea or rice will be Their only compensation. The mandarins will seize for wives The fair Australian girls; And from Melbourne to the diggings They'll cut lots of canals. And for fear the coves of New South Wales Should pay a hostile call; Between this colony and that No doubt they'll build a wall. The customs of their country Of course will then prevail; And every English slave will have To wear a long pigtail. We'll all of us be fed on rice, As true as I'm a sinner; And 'stead of spoons we'll have to use Those chopsticks for our dinner. This picture, perhaps, is overdrawn; But, however, who can say, That all these things will not take place, If we let them have their way. If it comes to pass, these English songs Away I'll quick be flinging, And learn their language; and come out In Chinese comic singing.