The Springtime It Brings on the Shearing

Oh, the springtime it brings on the shearing,

And it's then that you'll see them in droves,

To the west country stations all steering,

A-seeking a job off the coves.



With my ragged old swag on my shoulder

And a billy quart-pot in my hand,

I tell you we'll astonish the new chums

To see how we travel the land.


From Billabone, up to the border

Then it’s over to Bourke, there and back

On the mountains and plains you will find them

The men on the wallaby track.


Should they fail in finding employment

For food they’re not willing to lack

For cadgeing’s a source of enjoyment

To the men on the wallaby track


Oh, and after the shearing is over

And the wool season's all at an end,

It is then that you'll find those flash shearers

Making Johnny-cakes round in the bend.