Out Back

The old year went and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought

The cheque was spent that the shearer earned, and the sheds were all cut out

The publican’s words were short and few, and the publican’s looks were black

And the time had come, as the shearer knew, to carry his swag Out Back

CHORUS

For time means tucker, and tramp you must where the scrub and plains are wide

With seldom a track that a man can trust, or a mountain peak to guide

All day long in the dust and heat – when summer is on the track

With stinted stomachs and blistered feet, they carry their swags Out Back

He begged his way to the parched Paroo and the Warrego tracks once more

And he lived like a dog, as the swagmen do, till the western stations shore

But men were many, and sheds were full, for the work in towns was slack

The traveler never got his hands in wool, though he tramped for a year Out Back

It chanced one day when the north wind blew in his face like a furnace breath

He left the track for a tank he knew – ‘twas a shorter cut to death

For the bed of the tank was hard and dry, crossed with many a crack

And oh! it’s a terrible thing to die of thirst in the scrub Out Back

A drover came, but the fringe of the law was eastward many a mile

He never reported the thing that he saw, for it was not worth his while

The tanks are full and the grass is high in the mulga off the track

Where the bleaching bones of a white man lie by his mouldering swag Out Back

For time means tucker, and tramp they must, where the plains and the scrubs are wide

With seldom a track that a man can trust, or a mountain peak to guide

All day long in the flies and heat, the men of the outside track

With stinted stomachs and blistered feet must carry their swags Out Back

All day long in the flies and heat, the men of the outside track

With stinted stomachs and blistered feet must carry their swags Out Back

Out Back: H. Lawson / P. Roeterdink

These words written in 1893 also go by the title “Time Means Tucker”. In late 1892 and early 1893  Lawson tramped from Bourke to Hungerford and back.  The first line of the poem hints that this may have been the inspiration for this poem.  Like “The Tent Poles” these words are written, with feeling, for the swagmen.  In a beautiful but hospitable land, a wrong decision can have tragic consequences.  Phil Roeterdink put the tune to this one.