The New Chum Shearer

The new chum toils with his heart and his soul, he’s shearing the sheep to make a roll

Out in the backblocks far away then it’s off to the city for a holiday

Off to the city for a holiday

In the city he reckons he looks a swell and he takes a cab to the Kent hotel

The barmaid says “Why you look ill it must have been rough tucker Bill”

Must have been rough tucker Bill

In the city he really looks quite a goat in his Oxford bags and see-more coat

He’s spending money like a fool of course that he worked for like a flaming horse

Worked for like a flaming horse

He shouts for all hands round the place then it’s off to Randwick for the big horse race

Dosing himself with backache pills he talks high tallies and tucker bills

Talks high tallies and tucker bills

His money’s gone and his back is sore and the barmaid’s looks are kind no more

His erstwhile friends don’t give a hoot so it’s back to the shearing to get more loot

Back to the shearing to get more loot

He stands in the corner cadging fags his shirt is showing through his Oxford bags

His money’s gone the great galoot so it’s back to the shearing per what? – per boot

Back to the bush per what? – per boot

His money’s gone he can’t get a booze and the soles have gone through his snakeskin shoes

Camped with his back to the wind and rain he waits for the shearing to start again

Waits for the shearing to start again

At the back o’ Bourke where the flies are bad he talks of the wonderful times he’s had

He talks of the dozens of girls that he’s kissed and he talks of the winners that he shouldn’t have missed

Talks of the winners he shouldn’t have missed

So all you blokes with a cheque to spend don’t go to the city where you’ve got no friend

Just head for the nearest wayside shack ‘cos it’s not so far when you’ve got to walk back

Not so far when you’ve got to walk back

The New Chum Shearer: Traditional

The words to this song came to us via a very traditional and appropriate route – scribbled on a piece of paper over a beer in the Freemason’s Pub during a folk festival in the eighties.  It concerns the timeless art of separating a man from his wages.