I remember the days of loading the hay
Away out on the fields yellow and wide~
I loved so to muster the sheep and the cattle
And how I enjoyed so to ride~
I remember the shearing in old shearing sheds
I loved so the smell of the wool~
And working the press I to do confess
With a one time long handle till bales all were full~
How we mended fences by the mile and all in style
Over country sometimes very steep~
From early in dawn till come time to yawn
And the moon over hillside would creep~
The was homestead chores to do shared by the few
And horse to groom when we could
Not a lot of time to relax weekends on the axe
To make sure there was plenty of wood~
Wash our clothes in a copper for the whole week
Get ready for all there was to come~
There was mustering,marking,dipping and crutching
So much else on the station was done~
All fit as could be from hard work you see
Never one afraid to strike a blow~
So much all they could do and loved it it's true
Back when I was a young bloke it's so~
When there we rode horses not bikes and rested at night
As we all had done our share of hard work~
All then they were strikers and non then were pikers
Not one would hard work ever shirk~
The times I loved so when a young bloke ya know
How I loved boiling a billy of tea~
And for smoko always back in them days
Home made dampa of a bush recipe~
Every day it was long but we'd still sing a song
As we loved so what we all would do~
Away out in the country from daylight till dark
Love to go back if I could it is true~