The sun beat down on the far reaching plain,
it had been four years since it felt any rain.
And sun burned bloke who was tall and thin,
stood rolling up a smoke from a rusty old tin
took it all in his stride.
His mate sat next to his Blunstone boot,
A Queensland Blue by the name of Beaut.
A faithful mutt from way away back,
who has seen it all in the great outback
took it all in her stride.
The sunburned bloke was a ringer true,
who could outwork the likes of me and you.
A cattle drover, fencer and shearer of old
who could out shear the best or so I am told,
and take it all in his stride.
He and his swag had travelled the land,
along bitumen, creek bed and the hot sand.
His Queensland Blue, you remember Beaut?
would rather have travelled in the back of a ute,
but she took it all in her stride.
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