The Shearer’s Shack

Built in the nineteen twenties, in this tiny old farming town,

It’s survived prolonged drought and weeks of rain teeming down

It still stands the old log cabin and it sits a long, long way outback.

T’was the old shearer’s cottage, then became the shearer’s shack.

When the price of wool soared high or when the damns ran dry,

Farmers require persistence, speshly when bad seasons pile problems high.

Feared disaster could lay one step away, not sure of the reasons why.

Doubt promotes a new argument, good luck’s gone‘n passed us by?

The old cabin tells a story, it’s stood proud for near on a hundred years,

The water’s flowing in the creek providing a symphony to a farmer’s ears.

Then he hears the thunder and now the sky’s darkened and turning black

Creek’s near the shearer’s cottage, now known as the shearer’s shack.

Every night when I bunk there, I recall how she strutted when she walked,

I keep thinking ‘bout her husband, and how damn loud she talked.

And she always knew which place in town served the cheapest snack,

T’was the old shearer’s cottage, now known as the shearer’s shack.

She can still recall when this town was a tiny farming community,

Kids walked to school each day, where the nuns ruled with dignity

Those Sister’s terrified as they threatened by wielding an unfriendly cane

And when kids copped it they stayed quiet, from fear of much more pain

Then it got a whole lot worse, went to the Brother’s on the hill

These guys were stronger than the nuns, acted as if they liked to kill

We did as we were told ‘cause they showed few signs of fun or cheer

We then learned the best thing ‘bout leaving school meant no more fear

Now sometimes I think, I’d long to go to those days so long ago

I wonder if I’d do better with all the things that I now know

But the place I’d like most to go is gone, I so wish it could come back

T’was the old Shearer’s Cottage, t’was known as the Shearer’s Shack