I’ve shore at Burrabogie, and I’ve shore at Toganmain,
I’ve shore at big Willandra and upon the old Coleraine,
But before the shearin’ was over I’ve wished myself back,
Shearin’ for old Tom Patterson, on the One Tree Plain.
All among the wool, boys,
Keep your wide blades full, boys,
I can do a respectable tally myself whenever I like to try,
But they know me round the back blocks as Flash Jack
I’ve shore at big Willandra and I’ve shore at Tilberoo,
And once I drew my blades, my boys, upon the famed Barcoo,
At Cowan Downs and Trida, as far as Moulamein,
But I always was glad to get back again to the One Tree
Chorus: All among the wool, etc.
I’ve pinked ’em with the Wolseleys and I’ve rushed with
And shaved ’em in the grease, my boys, with the grass seed
But I never slummed my pen, my lads, whate’er it might
While shearin’ for old Tom Patterson, on the One Tree Plain.
I’ve been whalin’ up the Lachlan, and I’ve dossed on Cooper’s
And once I rung Cudjingie shed, and blued it in a week.
But when Gabriel blows his trumpet, lads, I’ll catch the
And I’ll push for old Tom Patterson’s, on the One Tree
“I’ve pinked ’em with the Wolseleys, and I’ve rushed with
B-bows, too.” – Wolseleys and B-bows are respectively
machines and hand-shears, and “pinking” means that he had
shorn the sheep so closely that the pink skin showed through.
“I rung Cudjingie shed and blued it in a week,” i.e., he was
the ringer or fastest shearer of the shed, and he dissipated
the earnings in a single week’s drunkenness.
“Whalin’ up the Lachlan.” – In the old days there was an
army of “sundowners” or professional loafers who walked
from station to station, ostensibly to look for work, but
without any idea of accepting it. These nomads often followed
up and down certain rivers, and would camp for days and
fish for cod in the bends of the river. Hence whaling up the