Bluey Brink                 

There once was a shearer, by name Bluey Brink

A devil for work and a devil for drink.

He could shear his hundred a day without fear

And drink without winking, four gallons of beer.

 

Now Jimmy, the barman, who served out the drink,

He hated the sight of this here Bluey Brink,

Who stayed much too late and who came much too soon;

At evening, at morning, at night and at noon.

 

One morning as Jimmy was cleaning the bar

With sulphuric acid he kept in a jar,

Old Bluey came yawling and bawling with thirst,

"Whatever you’ve got, Jim, just hand me the first."

 

Now, it ain't down in history, it ain't down in print

But Bluey drank acid with never a wink,

Saying, "That's the stuff, Jimmy! Well, strike me stone dead.

This'll make me the ringer of Stevenson's shed."

 

Now all that long day, as he served out the beer

Poor Jimmy was anxious and shaking with fear.

Too worried to argue, too anxious to fight,

Seeing old Bluey a corpse in his fright.

 

Now early next morning he opened the door,

In came the shearer asking for more;

With his eyebrows all singed and his whiskers deranged,

And holes in his hide like a dog with the mange.

 

Says Jimmy, "And how did you find the new stuff?"

Says Bluey, "It's fine, but I ain't had enough.

It gives me great courage to shear and to fight,

But why does that stuff set me whiskers alight

 

I thought I knew drink, but I must have been wrong;

For that stuff that you give me was proper and strong.

It set me to coughing, and you know I'm no liar

Every damned cough set me whiskers on fire."