no one moves a brick wall with their hands over their hearts

Prohibition ended in the ACT in 1928

Charge your glasses – we can toast to our great, European narcotics:
alcohol and Christian God.
No one splits a lip or difference sober as a judgement daze
we made our pilgrimages to the unholy land of Queanbeyan
where you could still get a civilised drink.
Now we let the stagger juice roll and flow
desperate to get drunk for a penny, dead drunk for tuppence.
Bend an elbow, we can rub together all the mean bones
in our bodies for the High Court wants to buy Joan Maloney a drink
at the world’s longest bubbly bar.