by Brian Miller

Definitely Picking Time

the fucking sky looks fucking dim
the fucking forecast’s fucking grim
the fucking fruit won’t fucking set
the fucking farm’s in fucking debt
my fucking pay’s a fucking crime
evidently picking time

the fucking grapes are fucking shot
they’re fucking ripe or fucking not
the fucking wind’s a fucking gale
the fucking clouds mean fucking hail
there’s fucking roos in fucking herds
and fucking flocks of fucking birds

the fucking tractor’s fucking old
there’s fucking fog and fucking mould
the fucking picker’s fucking late
the fucking grapes won’t fucking wait
the fucking press wont fucking screw
and fucking frost is fucking due

the fucking ferment’s fucking stuck
the fucking riesling’s fucking muck
the fucking sugar’s fucking low
the fucking yeast won’t fucking grow
the fucking vineyard’s fucking wet
the fucking oak’s got fucking brett

the fucking help’s a fucking nong
the fucking label’s fucking wrong
the fucking things won’t fucking stick
the fucking line’s too fucking quick
the fucking experts fucking ain’t
the fucking corks have fucking taint

fucking parker fucking stopped
so fucking exports fucking dropped
the fucking dollar’s fucking high
the fucking poms went fucking shy
the fucking yanks are fucking broke
the fucking world’s a fucking joke

the fucking boss he fucking moans
the fucking bars want fucking rhônes
the fucking pubs are fucking holes
fucking woolworths, fucking coles
the fucking website fucking sucked
the fucking market’s fucking fucked

there’s fucking heaps of fucking bills
the fucking reps are fucking dills
some fucking writer’s fucking rung
my fucking knee’s gone fucking bung
no fucking reason, fucking rhyme
definitely picking time.

With due respect to John Cooper Clarke.

“Evidently Chickentown” is a poem by the English performance poet John Cooper Clarke. The poem uses repeated profanity to convey a sense of futility and exasperation … – Wikipedia.

The original

The toned-down-for-television video

The excellent ‘Sopranos’ version

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