(To the tune of the Bruno Mars Song)

You can't count on me like one, two, three
I won't be there, and I know when I need to
I can stuff what you do with a four, three, two
who just aren't there
And that's what Aussies oughta do
oh yeah.. etc

Have you ever found yourself stuck in the middle of the C

that starts this bloody Census?

 Did you ever give a damn what this snooping means to me?  

I'm not defencelesss.

CH: You can't count on me etc

When you're tossing and turning and just can't fall asleep
I'm in the light beside you
And when you're out and walking down the street
Each day I will have spied you
Find out what you're made of
when you have all the numbers that you need?