There's a trade you all know well,
Its bringing cattle over
On every track, to the Gulf and back
Men know the Queensland drover.
Chorus
Pass the billy round me boys!
Don't let the pint-pot stand there!
For tonight we drink the health
Of every overlander.
I come from the Northern plains
Where the girls and grass are scanty;
Where the creeks run dry or ten foot high
And its either drought or plenty.
There are men from everyland,
From Spain and France and Flanders;
The're a well-mixed pack, both white and black,
The Queensland overlanders.
When we've earned a spree in town
We live like pigs in clover,
And the whole years cheque pours down the neck
Of many a Queensland drover.
As I pass along the roads,
The children raise my dander
Crying "Mother dear, take in the clothes
Here comes an overlander"!
Now I'm bound for home once more,
On a pread that's quite a goer;
I can find a job with a crawling mob
On the banks of the Maranoa.
This is an old Aussie folk song
Sing along to the music.
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