O fill me a glass of the Riverine!
And sit on your lover, my sinful queen:
We'll drink to the days that have always been —
The wowsers are down and out!

Without a fear of a " warning " , love,
We'll have a swim in the morning, love.
Where the rollers break in their scorning, love —
The wowsers are down and out.

We'll sun-bathe there till the noon, and go
In the afternoon to a sinful show,
With wine to follow, and joy shall flow —
The wowsers are down and out.

We'll moan no more for the rarity
Of Christian (or heathen) charity;
The Truth has come in its clarity —
The wowsers are down and out.

We'll breathe with freedom on Sunday now,
While laughing at old Mrs Grundy now —
O there shall at least be one day now
The wowsers are down and out.