I live a life thet's wild an' free,
An' me troubles they are few;
So 'ere's to another drink t' me
An' a thousan' a year to you.
A man can't count on much down 'ere;
An' I don't long fur wealf.
A trifle o' tucker an' whips o' beer,
Is all that I ask -- meself.
Fur it's carryin' me bloomin' swag frum mornin' until night;
An' it's waiting in the dusk outside the town
Fur I git me share o' walkin' when the world is fair and bright,
An' me tucker when the sun goes down.
My oath!
But I'm 'appy when the sun goes down.
With honest work I don't agree,
Fur where's the use o' toilin'?
While other men they work for me,
I watch me billy boilin'.
I'll take wot e're you 'ave to give,
An' steal wot e're I can;
Be the sweat of other brows I live,
So hurray fur the workin' man!
An' this me song as I trudge along,
Or watch me billy boil --
"'Ere's to the man thet earns 'is bread -
An' mine - by honest toil."
Fur men must work, an' women weep,
To make the world go roun';
But I've no weepin' women to keep,
So I watch the sun go down.
An' it's carryin' me bloomin' swag frum mornin' until night,
An' waitin' near the station or the town;
Fur I git me share o' loafin' when the sun is at 'is height,
An' me tucker when the sun goes down.
My oath!
But I'm 'appy when the sun goes down.
First published in The Critic, 26 February 1898
Author reference sites: C.J. Dennis, Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Australian Poetry Library
See also.
