I tell the tale of a man named Rubes;
Smile of gold and hair like pubes.
An honest friend through thick and thin,
Small in stature; big in grin.
Our story starts with Mill and Phil,
Long ago on Khandallah Hill.
A quiet lad, with furrowed brow
A world away from where we are now.
From this locale our hero starts
To see the world whilst breaking hearts.
Though some came close – his heart still yearned
To see a smile, like his, returned;
A smile so wide he could fit inside,
A smile – our Rubes resolved to find…
So off he went down youth’s long road,
Bad haircuts and pop punk safely stowed,
Through countless scrapes and misadventures,
Missed tutorials and essay extensions.
And after this where did he go?
Which lofty fields did he choose to sow?
Surely something glorious, something grand?
Alas no! He took calls for the NZ taxman.
And there he festered for a while
Handing louts the IR3 file.
And here our hero’s journey came close to an end
IF not for a surprise lurking ’round the bend…
But wait! What light rises over yonder IRD!
The East? The Sun? Nay – its Nadine!
And Rubes looks up from his tax code Almanac
And gives a smile – and the smile comes back!
Some gentle flirting did ensue
But things kicked off from the very first woo.
Promises were made, and plans were set
The world an oyster! The IRD to forget!
So Nads marched in and they both marched out
And together they travelled the world with out:
Through Canadian winters and Scottish highlands;
American ribs and European Vans;
These two quite a couple combined did make –
‘Coz a smile that’s returned is hard to break.
And then, whilst swimming at a beach in Goa
Rubes pulled out a ring and proceeded to show her!
And of course, she said yes, and of course – here we are
Celebrating your union in a Lombokian bar.
And so – a toast, with this setting sun:
I say on behalf of everyone;
That with all things fair,
and when all’s said and done –
We’re loving to see you –
– as One.