Brisbane Ladies

Farewell and adieu you sweet Brisbane ladies

Farewell and adieu, you maids of Toowong

We've sold all our cattle and we've got to be moving

But we hope that we’ll see you again before long.

 

We'll rant and we'll roar like true Queensland drovers

We'll rant and we'll roar as onward we push

Until we return to the Augathella station

Oh, it's flaming dry going through the old Queensland bush.

 

The first camp we’ll make, we call it the Quart Pot,

Calboolture, then Kilcoy, and Collington's Hut,

We'll pull up at the stone house, Bob Williamson's paddock,

And early next morning we cross the Black Butt.

 

Then on to Taromeo and Yarraman’s Creek, lads,

It's there that we’ll make our next camp for the day

Where the water and grass are both plenty and sweet, lads,

And maybe we'll butcher a fat little stray.

 

Then on to Nanango, that hard-bitten township

Where the out-of-work station-hands sit in the dust,

Where the shearers get shorn by old Tim, the contractor

Oh, I wouldn't go near there, but I flaming well must!

 

  The girls of Toomancy they are so entrancing

Those young, bawling heifers all out for their fun

With the waltz and the polka and all kinds of dancing

To the rackety old banjo of Bob Anderson.

 

Then fill up your glasses, and drink to the lasses,

We'll drink this town dry, then farewell to them all

And when we get back to the Augathella Station,

We hope you'll come by there and give us a call.