The Old Shearer

Each morning between nine and eleven at the table by the kiosk by the lake
He sits alone reading the morning paper whilst drinking his coffee and eating his cake
The old bloke from the snowy river country he was a shearer many years ago
His hair is gray he has seen many Seasons and much of life and living he does know.

I have been talking to this wise old fellow one who worked and lived distant from the nearest town
A humble man he does admit he was a good shearer whilst pointing out that gives him no claim to renown
He never married or never fathered children places he shore in and lived from towns too far away
The shearer's life he says can be quite lonely one did not see or meet a woman every day.

Back in my prime years when i was fit and younger motor vehicles in those days were so few
And on how to talk to and to chat up women i as a shy young person little knew
When we went to town me and my fellow shearers 'twas never for the women but the beer
Nowadays i don't go to the local bar-room and i haven't tasted alcohol for many a year.

He lives in his small bungalow in the suburbs and a very simple life style he does lead
And every day he's at the local library where books and magazines he loves to read
And with coffee and cake at the lakeside cafe he always does like to begin his day
A nice old man he was an outback shearer till fifteen years ago he gave that work away.