There’s some who like to listen
To a musical machine
Chanting Annie Laurie
Or the wearin’ o’ the Green.
To many in the dry time
The sweetest tune of all
Is heard upon the housetops
When the rain begins to fall.
Every thud makes merry music
When “Hughie” sends it down –
To sink into the good earth
That is burnt, bare and brown.
We know that on the morrow
Every beast will get a bite
That the bush will change its colour
Become green overnight.
We can liquidate the mortgage
And get cheeky with the Banks –
We needn’t dip our lids
To the Pommies or the Yanks.
The Chinese and the Russians
Will come to buy our wheat
That hobos and commos
May have enough to eat.
Our ships by the quayside
With sugar will be full –
And wagons will be creaking
Bringing in the wool.
The cows with their tails up
Will tear around the flats
While ringers try to yard’em
In their twenty gallon hats.
The wild life of the bushland
The bandy and the ‘roo –
And all their near relations
Will be feeling good as new.
The ibis and the brolga
Will strut around the plain –
And wild ducks in their thousands
Will visit us again.
Sobs, coves and coots
That didn’t treat us well –
We can look them in the eye
And say “go to Inverell!”
The bloke that runs the boozer
When customers come in
Will have smiles on him all over
When told “Fill ‘em up agen!”
We’ll see cents on the counter
And dollars lying about –
And we’ll all let our heads go
At the breaking of the drought.
By Dan Sheahan (1882-1977).
Taken from ‘Songs from the Canefields’ (1972); printed with the permission of the Sheahan family.
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