He is now beyond his mid fifties the hard life has left him looking gray
‘Tis said he now lives in the Suburbs that he has given shearing away.
The shearer’s life is never easy he works hard in the warm sun of day
The work is sweaty and laborious and for him no such a thing as easy pay
He travels far from home in the shearing Season from the sun he looks wrinkled and brown
He works where the bush flies are buzzing many miles from the nearest Bush Town.
The shearer is one not to envy a hard sort of life he does lead
They work hard and they are hard drinkers and they are quite a hardy breed
But hard work can wear out a tractor and shearers look old before their time
A good shearer into his fifties is not as good as a good shearer in his life’s prime.
Where is he now the renowned shearer he has not been seen around here for some while
He is such a likeable fellow so down to earth and free of guile
‘Tis said he is living in the Suburbs of sheep he has shorn more than his share
In a day he often shore two hundred and shearers like him are so rare.