The Outback Shearer

To a hardy breed of people he surely does belong
The man from the high woodland of the pied currawong
For many years a shearer one of no fixed abode
In his ute through the outback he has travelled on many a road
Single in his early forties he has yet to take a wife
Though he is not short of women plenty of them in his life
Says he has not fathered children not that he knows of anyway
In every Bushtown he has a woman though in every town his is a brief stay
From the hill of the pied currawong and the tall mountain ash trees
That sough and wave their branches in the freshening high country breeze
Yet he likes the wide brown outback and though the shearer never draws easy pay
He will be shearing in the shearing sheds till he grows old and gray
In the Bushtown pubs at the weekend there is women, laughter, beer and song
To the travelling life of the outback shearer he is one who does belong.