Lyrics

Well, at each gate each shearer stood as the whistle loudly blew With eyebrows fixed and lips set tight and the tigers all fed too You can hear the clicking of the shears as through the wool they glide And see the ringer already turned and on the whipping side A lot of Lachlan tigers, it's plain to see they are And the ringer goes on driving as he loudly calls for tar "Tar here, you dozy loafer," and quick the tar boy flies "Broom here and sweep them locks away," another loudly cries The scene it is a lively one and ought to be admired There's never been a better board since Jacky Howe expired Along the board the contractor walks, his face all in a frown And passing by the ringer he says, "My lad keep down." I mean to have those bellies off and topknots too likewise My eye is quick, so stop your tricks or from me you will fly My curse on that contractor by flaming day and night To shear a decent tally here in vain I've often tried I have a pair of Ward and Paine's that are both bright and new I'll rig them up and let you see what I can really do For I've shore on the Bogan where they shear them by the score But such a terror as this to clip I've never saw before A lot of Lachlan tigers, it's plain to see they are And the ringer goes on driving as he loudly calls for tar The scene it is a lively one and ought to be admired There's never been a better board since Jacky Howe expired