Australian Folk Songs
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The Tomyhawker (1923)(For the 'S. and S. Jounral.') Oh, my love he is a shearer, a shearer lady by trade,
And many's the tidy tally, my love for me has made.
While walking through a shed one day,
In the Spring-time of ihe year:
Be thought he'd make, a pile at it,
So he started in to shear.
He quickly put a dozen away,
Though he nearly half-killed nine, he's the regular topper slasher,
In the tommyhawking line. Oh, watch him, pipe him, twig him , how he shears.
He leaves the wool on the belly and legs,
And round the horns and ears,
He's a regular terror to cobblers
And duty bound to shine,
With his oil rags and his double cut,
In the tomyhawking line. He always says he'll stay at home,
But he's such a changeful mind.
He's packed his traps again this year,
And left me here behind.
He's travelling through the country,
With his tongs and turkey stone,
In a hungry ghost of a crocodile, a heap of skin and bone.
He's looking out for a shed,
Where he can average ninety-nine,
For he's death upon rosellas,
In the tomyhawking line. Oh, watch him, pipe him, twig him how he shears.
Oh, my love he is a shearer,
And he's the man for me,
He's the man you, often read about,
But very seldom see.
And though he is a dab, sir,
A regular don to shear,
He can double his highest tally,
When he gets upon the beer.
He can manage brandy, rum or gin,
At a pinch champagne or wine,
But his boss performance is with the tongs,
In the tomyhawking line. Oh, watch him, pipe him, twig him as he shears,
He leaves the wool on the belly and legs.
And round the horns and ears.
He's a regular terror to cobblers,
And really bound to shine,
With his oil rags and his double cuts,
In the tomyhawking line. --Dr. James Somers. Notes From the NSW Newspaper the Sydney Stock and Station Journal 16 Nov 1923 p. 9.
australian traditional songs . . . a selection by mark gregory