The Outback Shearer

To a hardy breed of people he surely does belong The man from the high woodland of the pied currawong For many years a shearer one of no fixed abode In his ute through the outback he has travelled on many a road Single in his early forties he has yet to take a wife Though he is not short of women plenty of them in his life Says he has not fathered children not that he knows of anyway In every Bushtown he has a woman though in every town his is a brief stay From the hill of the pied currawong and the tall mountain ash trees That sough and wave their branches in the freshening high country breeze Yet he likes the wide brown outback and though the shearer never draws easy pay He will be shearing in the shearing sheds till he grows old and gray In the Bushtown pubs at the weekend there is women, laughter, beer and song To the travelling life of the outback shearer he is one who does belong.