Farewell and adieu to you Brisbane ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you girls of Toowong;
We have sold all our cattle and cannot now linger,
But trust we shall see you again before long.
We sing and we shout like true Queensland natives
As merrily, merrily onward we push,
Until we return to the Old Cattle Station,
What joy and delight is a life in the bush.
The first camp we make we'll call it the Good Luck,
Caboolture and Kilcoy, then Colinton Hut;
We pull up at Stone-house, Bob Williams's paddock,
And soon the next morning we cross the Black Butt.
On, on past Taromeo to Yarraman Creek, boys,
It's there we will make a fine camp for the day,
When the water and grass are both plenty and good boys,
The life of the drover is merry and gay.
The camp is all snug and supper is over,
We lounge round the fire enjoying a smoke,
While yarning of home, or the life of a drover,
Till all join in the chorus to `Grandfather's Clock.'
Next night through Nanango -the jolly old township,
`Good day to you, lads' with a hearty shake hands
`Come on, this is my shout! Well here's to your next trip,
And we hope you will step in tonight at our dance!'
Oh, the girls look so pretty — the sight is entrancing,
Bewitching and graceful they join in the fun,
Of waltz, polka, first set, and all other dancing,
To the old concertina of Jack Smith, the Don.
Though far I have travelled through Russia and Finns-Land,
Have met the famed damsels of Poland and Spain;
More lovely and fair are the darlings of Queensland,
You may search the wide world for their equals in vain.
Now drink to our lasses in right hearty fashion,
Come sing the loud chorus — sing farewell to all;
And when we return from the Old Cattle Station,
We'll always be pleased to give you a call.