Push for PORTER

izquierdaBroken-Down Squatterderecha

Come, Stumpy, old man, we must shift whilst we can
All your mates in the paddock are dead
We must bid a farewell to Glen Even's fair dell
The place where your master was bred
Together we'll roam from our drought-stricken home
It seems hard that such things have to be
And it's hard on a horse when he's nowt for a boss
But a broken-down squatter like me

And the banks are all broken they say
And the merchants are all up a tree
When the bigwigs are brought to the bankruptcy court
What chance for a squatter like me

No more we shall muster the river for fats
Nor spiel on the Fifteen Mile Plain
Nor rip through the scrub by the light of the moon
Nor see the old homestead again
Leave the slip-panels down, they don't matter much now
For there's none but the crows left to see
Sitting gaunt on a pine as though longing to dine
On a broken-down squatter like me

When the country was cursed with the drought at its worst
And the cattle were dying in scores
Though down on my luck, I kept up my pluck
Thinking justice might temper the laws
But the farce has been played, and the Government aid
Ain't extended to squatters, old son
When my money was spent, they doubled the rent
And resumed the best half of my land

'Twas done without reason, for leaving the season
No squatter could stand such a rub
For it's useless to squat when the rents are so hot
You can't save the price of your grub
For there's not much to choose 'twixt the banks and the screws
Once a fella gets put up a tree
No odds what I feel, there's no Court of Appeal
For a broken-down squatter like me