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A Shearing Song
[For The Worker.]

We've knocked about in bush and' town,
And. harsh rebuffs we've met ;
For while the plains were bare and brown
The grips were, hard to get.

But now the clouds are lifting, and
Our troubles lighter press,
As in a stiff but eager hand
We grasp the T.U.S.

The T.U. Shears, the good old shears,
The dandy shears, we vow ;
They stood our friends in other years,
They'll stand our comrades now.

So give your, call for " Wool away !"
While close your maties press,
And snowy fleeces all the day
Fall from the T.U.S.

And when the weary shearer tries
To swallow yarns at night,
And when the liars start to rise
The tallies out of sight,

'Tis then the cronk blades are abused,
While all the guns confess
'The sweetest tongs we ever used —
The good old T.U.S. !"

Now, we must close this simple song,
For lights are going out —
The shearer snores both deep and strong,
So does the rouseabout.

And by the ringer's twitching hand
Upon his cheek, I guess
He's dreaming of his tallies grand —
Made with the T.U.S.

          RIVERINA.
N.S.W.

Notes

From the Wagga NSW newspaper the Worker Saturday 15 August 1903 p. 3.

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australian traditional songs . . . a selection by mark gregory