The Murrumbidgee Shearer

Words: AB Paterson
Music: Unknown



Come, all you jolly natives, and I'll relate to you
Some of my observations-adventures, too, a few.
I've travelled about the country for miles, full many a score,
And oft-times would have hungered, but for the cheek I bore.

I've coasted on the Barwon-low down the Darling, too,
I've been on the Murrumbidgee, and out on the Paroo;
I've been on all the diggings, boys, from famous Ballarat;
I've loafed upon the Lachlan and fossicked Lambing Flat.

I went up to a squatter, and asked him for a feed,
But the knowledge of my hunger was swallowed by his
greed.
He said I was a loafer and for work had no desire,
And so, to do him justice, I set his shed on fire.

Oh, yes, I've touched the shepherd's hut, of sugar, tea, and
flour;
And a tender bit of mutton I always could devour.
I went up to a station, and there I got a job;
Plunged in the store, and hooked it, with a very tidy lob.

Oh, yes, my jolly dandies, I've done it on the cross.
Although I carry bluey now, I've sweated many a horse.
I've helped to ease the escort of many's the ounce of gold;
The traps have often chased me, more times than can be told.

Oh, yes, the traps have chased me, been frightened of their
stripes
They never could have caught me, they feared my cure for
gripes.
And well they knew I carried it, which they had often seen
A-glistening in my flipper, chaps, a patent pill machine.

I've been hunted like a panther into my mountain lair.
Anxiety and misery my grim companions there.
I've planted in the scrub, my boys, and fed on kangaroo,
And wound up my avocations by ten years on Cockatoo.

So you can understand, my boys, just from this little rhyme,
I'm a Murrumbidgee shearer, and one of the good old time.


From the Banjo's Old Bush Songs. The full text of this great book is available at Project Gutenberg.

The Maryborough Miner

Come all you sons of liberty and listen to me song:
I'll tell you me observations and it won't take very long.
I've fossicked around this continent five thousand miles or more
And many's the time I might have starved but for the cheek I bore.

I've been on all the diggings, boys, from famous Ballarat,
I've long-tommed on the Lachlan and I've fossicked Lambing Flat.
So you can understand, me boys, just from my little rhyme,
I'm a Maryborough miner and I'm one of the good old time.

I came to the Fitzroy River all with me Bendigo rig;
I had a shovel, a pick, and a pan, and for a licence I begged.
But the assay man called me a loafer, said for work I'd no desire,
And so to do him justice, boys, I set his office on fire.

Oh yes, my jolly jokers, I've done it on the cross,
Although I carry me bluey now, I've sweated many a horse.
I've helped to rob the escort of many an ounce of gold
And the traps have trailed upon my tail more times than I've ever told.

Oh yes, the traps have trailed me and been frightened out of their stripes;
They never could have caught me for they feared me cure for gripes.
And well they knew I carried it for they had often seen it
Glistening in me flipper chaps, me patent pill machine.

I'm one of the men who cradled on the reef at Tarrangower,
Anxiety and misery me grim companions there.
I puddled the clay at Bendigo and I chanced me arm at Kew,
And I wound up my avocation with ten years on Cockatoo.

I've been on all the diggings, boys, from famous Ballarat,
I've long-tommed on the Lachlan and I've fossicked Lambing Flat.
So you may understand, my boys, just from this little rhyme,
I'm a Maryborough miner and I'm one of the good old time.


From AL Lloyd's 1956 Australian Bush Songs album.

These sleeve notes are from his second recording of the song on his 1958 release, Across the Western Plains:

The great gold rushes which began in the 1850's developed a self-reliant class of men. Among the most admirable were the men who raised the flag of stars at Eureka Stockade in 1854 against oppressive authority. Among the least admirable were those who were prepared to get their gold at the point of a pistol, if they couldn't get it by the point of a pick. But often it was hard to tell the best from the worst among the diggers, as with the genial old rascal of this song. Of the Victorian township of Maryborough, Mark Twain said it was a “railway station with a town attached.” The people of Maryborough replied: “Even Mark Twain has to pay tribute to our impressive railway station.” (Some say that the railways people got their plans mixed, and that the station they built at Maryborough had been designed for the centre of Melbourne.)

The Kookaburra Song

Marion Sinclair



Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree,
Merry merry king of the bush is he.
Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra,
Gay your life must be!

Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree,
Eating all the gum drops he can see.
Stop Kookaburra, stop Kookaburra
Save some there for me!

Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree,
Counting all the monkeys he can see.
Laugh Kookaburra, laugh Kookaburra
That's not a monkey, that's me!


Written in 1932 by Marion Sinclair for the Victorian Guides.

Fine Young Men

Words: Eric Bogle
Music: John Munro



They told all the fine young men
“When this War is over
There will be peace
And the peace will lost forever"
ln Flanders fields, at Lone Pine ond Bersheeba
For King and Country, for honour ond duty
The young men fought ond cursed ond wept ond died

They told all the fine young men
“When this War is over
There will be peace
And the peace will lost forever"
Tobruk ond Alamein, Bhuna ond Kokoda
ln a world mad with War like their fathers before
The young men fought and cursed and wept and died

For many of those fine young men
All the wars are over
They’ve found their peace
lt’s the peace thot losts forever
When the call comes agoin they will not ansvver
They’re just forgotten bones lying for from their homes
As forgotten as the cause for which they died
Ah, young men, can you see now why they lied?


A great song from the pen of Eric Bogle, a Scot who found his home in Australia and has written some of the best-known and loved Australian songs.

Les Darcy

Newton and Warener Chappeli




Roll up ! roll up ! and see the show, you local blokes let's see you go
A quid for a goer, two bob for a dud, it's a princely pay for sweat and blood.

Young Les was keen to have a go, "now watch him Les ! he'll hit you low"
The tent-show boy never saw it coming, Maitland's pride was off and running
.
.
CHORUS:
All I can wish for tonight is to see les D'Arcy fight.
How they cheered him, they clapped him & they cheered him
Every Saturday night
.
So he hung around the stadium door, they let him in to sweep the floor,
He saw them spar, the best they'd got, he knew that he could beat the lot
Three rounds to start and then a main, he never swept that floor again,
For he beat them all inside the bell, soon he heard the people yell.
.
They rolled up in regiments for every fight, they made Les Darcy King for a night
But then he refused to kill in our name, the press they called him a national shame.
He stowed away for the land of the free, he died alone across the sea
In a flag-drap'd coffin they sent 'im 'ome, he sat on our guilt like a champion's throne
.
He was going down to Tennessee, he was going down to die,
If we'd known that we would break your heart, you would have heard Australia cry.
.



Les Darcy was Australia's most famous boxer. He trained as a middleweight although at one point he held Australia's middleweigth and heavyweight titles simultaneously.

A hero in his time, he was caught up in a public outrage over whether he was seeking to avoid conscription, He moved to the United States, taking out citizenship two weeks later. He collapsed unexpectedly in Memphis, dying two weeks later from pneumonia on 24 May, 1917.

These notes from Warren Fahey's Larrikins, Louts and Layabouts album.

The year of his death saw another song published, Les Darcy, A Song Of Remembrance. Follow the link for the full score.

Across the Western Plains

Traditional.




CHORUS:
It's all for me grog my jolly jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
Well I spent all my tin in a shanty drinking gin
Now across the Western plains I must wander

I'm stiff stoney broke and I've parted with me moke
And the sky is looking black as flaming thunder
And the shanty boss is too for I haven't got a sou
That's the way you're treated when you're down and under

I'm sick in the head for I haven't been to bed
Since first I touched this shanty with my plunder
I see centipedes and snakes, and I'm full of aches and shakes
So I"d better make a push out over yonder

Redemption brings reproof, so I sadly pad the hoof
All day I see the mirage of the trees
But it will all have to end, when I reach the river bend
And listen to the sighing of the breeze.

So hang that jolly grog, that hopeless shanty prog
All your beer that's loaded with tobacco
Grafting humour I am in and I'll stick the peg right in
And I'll settle down once more for to yakka


An Australian variation of Noggin Boots, or Across the Western Ocean. This version by cloudstreet, with Vicki Swan on double bass and Jonny Dyer on piano. From our 2010 album, The Circus of Desires.

Another from the Big Book of Australian Folk Songs.

The Pauline Hanson Song

Martin Pearson

Performed by Martin Pearson & John Thompson. From their second album, Never The Twain: Live at the Pod. Pauline Hanson was a prominent reactionary politician in Australia around the turn of the century.