Wallabi Joe

The saddle was hung on the stockyard rail

The poor old horse stood whisking his tail

For never was seen such a regular screw

As Wallabi Joe, or bunnagaroo

The shearers all said and they said of course

Wallabi Joes a fine lump of a horse

The stockman said as they laughed aside

He'd barley do for a Sundays ride

Oh! Poor Wallabi Joe

Ooh poor Wallabi Joe

Oh poor Wallabi Joe

Oh oh oh poor Wallabi Joe

I'm weary of a galloping now he cried

I wish I was killed for my hide for my hide

For My eyes are dim and my back is sore

I feel my legs won't stand much more

Stockman Bill took care of his nag

Under the saddle of a soojee bag

And off he rode with a whip in his hand

To look for the mob of the RJ brand

Now stockman Bill camped out that night

He hobbled his horse in a sheltered bight

Next day old Joe found not a track

Had to trudge home his swag on his back

He searched up and down every gully he knew

But not a hair of his poor old screw

The stockmen said as they laughed at his woe

Sell us the chance of old Wallabi Joe

As years sped by as Bill grew old

Came into his head go poking for gold

So away he went with a spade in his fist

To hunt for a nugget amongst the schist

One day as a gully he chanced to cross

He came on the bones of his poor old horse

The hobbles being jammed in a root below

Occasioned the death of poor Wallabi Joe