Across the Western Plains I Must Wander

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It's ah ! for my grog, my jolly, jolly grog,
It's ah ! for my beer and tobacco;
I spent all my tin in the shanty drinking gin,
Now across the western plains I must wander.

I'm stiff and stony broke, and I've parted with my moke
And the sky is looking black as thunder,
And the boss of the shanty too, for I haven't a sou -
That's the way you're treated when you're out and under.


Chorus: It's ah! for, etc.
I'm crook in the head, for I haven't been to bed
Since I first touched this shanty with my plunder;
I see centipedes and snakes, and I'm full of aches and shakes,
So I'd better make a push out over yonder.


Chorus: It's ah! for, etc.
I take the Old Man Plain, criss-cross it all again,
Until my eyes the track no longer see;
My beer and brandy brain seeks balmy sleep in vain,
I feel as if I had the Darling Pea.


Chorus: It's ah! for, etc.
Repentance brings reproof, so I sadly "pad the hoof;"
All day I see the mirage of the trees,
But it all will have an end when I reach the river bend,
And listen to the sighing of the breeze.


Chorus: It's ah! for, etc.
Then hang the jolly prog, the hocussed shanty grog,
The beer that's loaded with tobacco;
Grafting humour I am in, and I'll stick the peg right in
And settle once more down to Yakka.


Chorus: It's ah! for, etc.

© Anonymous