| SOURCE: MSS/Mitchell Papers of W H L Morfew Nov 1911. Handwritten memoir SITE SOURCE: Bush Life Off To The ShearingThe shearing time has come again, the men on bike horseAre trekking over hill & plain and down the watercourse They swarm from city town & bush, like bees they settle down While I myself must make a push, for life is dull in town Chorus So off to the shearing I'll go I'll go So off to the shearing I'll go There's money in wool, of town life I'm full So off to the shearing I'll go A shearer leads a roving life, he's happy & he's free He's just as independent as a wild dog ought to be He dearly loves a pretty girl and in that there is no sin But if a white one fails him, well, he'll fasten to a gin So off to the shearing I'll go I'll go So off to the shearing I'll go The girls frown on me a gin case I'll be when off to the shearing I'll go We're shearing at Malaraway, the engine throws apace The tally board shows plain as day, the Q gun can race The bins are full the pressers they can't stop to have a chat The cook is babbling night & day, his slushy's bogged in fat Away from the shearing I'll go I'll go Away from the shearing I'll go Ben Rickards you bet will poison us yet So away from the shearing I'll go |