Now if you will listen I'll tell you a story,
Concerning some drovers a few months ago,
They started away from the Maranoa River
With five hundred store-bullocks to the Logan to go.

I heard many stories about the life of a drover,
His fancy whip-handle, and jingling quart-pot,
And smoking and yarning at night round the campfire,
Some people will say, ‘What a life he has got.’

But the gay drover's life is not always sunshine,
No doubt some old hands will tell you the same,
You are roused out of bed about two in the morning,
To keep watch on those cattle, lest it thunder or rain.

The dingoes are howling, the thunder is growling,
The night is pitch dark as we start to retire,
The night-watch is singing, horse-bells are ringing,
And breakfast next morn by the light of the fire.

How well I remember the day at Taroom,
When we crossed o'er the Dawson amid pouring rain,
And on past the Auburn, no flour or tobacco,
I wished I was back in old Mitchell again.

Then on past Boondoomba and Burandowan station,
Tobacco it seemed was a thing of the past,
Night-watching is dreary, horses footsore and weary,
The ground wet and boggy, and the creek rising fast.

I remember Taabinga, a nice pretty station,
And swimming the cattle across Barker Creek,
And the night at Nanango, our blankets were soaking,
The rain fell in torrents, and the tent it did leak.

Then on past Nanango, and Taromeo station
The road rough and stony, some bullocks were lame,
The storm-birds are calling, the rain is still falling,
We crossed over a range, I've forgotten its name.

Then down in the Valley, the feed is much better,
We camped in Bob Williams's paddock that night,
Salt beef and burnt damper, and tea without sugar,
Our clothes wet and sodden, a pitiful sight.

On then past Esk and on to Tarampa,
The rain it has cleared, the day's fairly fine,
Our spirits are lighter, the night is much brighter;
At Grandchaster station we crossed the rail line.

Now our trip is near over, the cattle in clover,
The weather has cleared and our blankets are dry,
The days are quite breezy, and the going is easy,
We camped out that night 'neath a clear starry sky.

Next day with elation we reached Bromelton station,
We delivered the cattle with many a curse,
Our long trip was over, but said the boss drover,
‘It was a pretty rough trip, but it could have been worse.’