On the Dole (1936)
The times they are hard, my good old pard,So what do you think you'll do ;
Will you worry your head, till you drop stone dead,
Because you're not worth a soo,
There's money to burn, every where you turn,
But work, it is up the pole ;
So come with me, and we'll have a spree,
From the cash that's in the dole. The Government spends, and never mends,
Its old political ways ;
The party's right, and they sit down tight,
Just as in the good, old days.
So what do we care, there's cash to spare,
From the workers' taxes roll ;
We'll carry our swags, and fill our bags,
Out of the cash that's in the dole. We'll got some clothes, from the lord who knows,
When we're out of these we wear ;
We'll tell a good tale, and never fail,
When we want to get our share,
When our boots are worn, and stitches torn,
And the soles are in a hole ;
We'll breast some shop, or generous cop,
And tell 'em we're on the dole. The Lottery's right, we'll heave in sight,
With cash to try our luck ;
Our will is our way, so people say,
Twill be a surprise, if we got a rise,
As along the track we bowl :
We'll give a loud cheer, and mop some beer,
And we'll still keep on the dole. We'll sing a song, on the Billabong
And camp by the river bend ;
We'll tell some yarns, of the cocky farms,
As we sit with pants to mend.
We'll tramp the track, with swags on our backs,
And into the town we'll stroll ;
We don't care a jot, if cold or hot,
While there's cash still in the dole. "THE SHOALHAVEN BARD." Notes From the NSW Newspaper The Cobargo Chronicle 4 Mar 1932 p. 6.