Have you seen the old stockman, at the functions and balls He drinks while they serve him and he sleeps where he falls He'll be crook Sunday, but he'll turn up Monday, though He wonders if one day he'll bother at all
CHORUS Cause they've turned out the horses The whole bloody plant And he'd ride a bike if he could but he can't And if you live to chase cattle You'll die when you aren't And he's back on the grader again.
He got married young on a wing and a prayer And it promised the world, but they didn't go there 'Cos a wet season ends and away like the damp He shoulders his saddle and he's back in the camp
Repeat Chorus
He can't keep the books cause he can't read or write And he's too old for driving a roadtrain at night The windmills too high and the fencings too hard He's too proud for the garden, too slow for the yard.