The Brazealander

I'm a brazen Brazealander no shame
Tis not the only reason for my fame
It's not from where inspirations came
There's nothing else but verse to blame

My mouth struggles yet achieves
most of those crazy vowels in Portuguese
Though my accent is still blunt
like the beak of a traveled Kiwi

Yes I am a Brazealander two parts
Not many such as I
Two countries in heart
equally paradise

I'm a Brazealander as far as it allows
Not many such as me
I dream of Pohutakawas
Under the shade of palm trees

I've often been accused vehemently
of being some other foreigner lost on the street
A Kraut, a Yank even a shrimp on the Barbie
Don't they know New Holland is not a country?

A Brazealander just shrugs it off
Keeps walking, slinging the slang, a learner of the lingo
Not your stock standard reaction machine of a gringo?
Not a carnival ticket buying, that's where my bling goes
The lights, costumes, glitter and semi nude pose

A Brazealander, cut the steak, light the grill and "Pimba"
Smile on the face, beer in the hand, touch the samba
Music so chill you're two winks from a coma
Neighborhood filled with that barbecue aroma
Brazealander has two places he calls his home, lar