Words: Stan Dean
Tunes: Swanee River
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Way down Eurobin, Ovens Valley,
Where we reside,
Growing hops and picking for a tally
Good for the beer inside
All the world may be sad and bleary
Feeling all alone
But we are always so bright and cheery
Hopping away down at home.
Awaking fresh and bright each morning
Breathing the smell of hops
Gone before is drowsiness and yawning
Fighting fit for unions and cops
"Flowers of the forest" pickers gather
Hooking down from the wire
Checking weights from kids, Mum and Father
Calling each other a liar.
So may you who like your evening snorter
Give a thought to how it's made
Never let it be known that you have bought a beer
With a dash of lemonade.
Another from Ron Edwards, this collected from Stan Dean of Cairns, a song he wrote in the 1920s as part of a skit he wrote while picking hops in Victoria.
The illustration is of hop-picking in Tasmania.