Oh hark, the dogs are barking, I can no longer stay;
The men have all gone mustering, and it is nearly day.
And I must be off my morning light before the sun shines,
To meet the Roma shearers on the banks of the Condamine.
Oh Willy, dearest Willy, oh let me go with you!
I'll cut off all my auburn fringe, and be a shearer too.
I'll cook, and count your tally, love, while ringer-o you shine,
And I'll wash your greasy moleskins on the banks of the Condamine.
Oh Nancy, dearest Nancy, with me you cannot go!
The squatters gave us orders, no woman should do so,
And your delicate constitution is not equal to mine,
To withstand the constant tigering on the banks of the Condamine.
Oh Willy, dearest Willy, then stay at home with me!
We'll take a vast selection, and a farmer's wife I'll be.
I'll help you husk the corn, love, and cook your meals so fine.
You'll forget the taste of mutton on the banks of the Condamine.
Oh Nancy, dearest Nancy, please do not hold me back!
Down there the boys are waiting, and I must be on the track.
So here's a goodbye kiss, love; back home I will incline,
When we've shorn the last of the jumbucks on the banks of the Condamine.
released February 28, 2014
all rights reserved