Our fathers came in search of gold, a claim that proved a duffer
The syndicates, the banks, the bosses, they all made us suffer
We fought for freedom, for ourselves, ourselves and mates of toil
Australia's sons are weary and Billy's on the boil
Australia's on the wallaby, on the sip to the cooey
Kangaroo, he packs his port, a name you've shown is bluey
The boomerangs are whizzing round, the dingo scratches gravel
The moss and bears and bandicoots are always on the travel
An old tiger, snake and damper, oh, that's what's on the coals
Of droughts and floods and ragged duds and dried-out waterholes
Of treeless runs and sun-scorched plains, they're asking us to toil
Australia's sons are weary and Billy's on the boil
Australia's on the wallaby, on the sip to the cooey
Kangaroo, he packs his port, a name you've shown is bluey
The boomerangs are whizzing round, the dingo scratches gravel
The moss and bears and bandicoots are always on the travel
The cuckoo calls, the bats and owls, the pigeon and the ***
The platypus, the mallee hen have all rolled up their swags
The curler waves his hand goodbye beside the long lagoon
And the brolga does the last lame waltz, the live bird's mocking tune
Australia's on the wallaby, on the sip to the cooey
The kangaroo, he packs his port, a name you've shown is bluey
The boomerangs are whizzing round, the dingo scratches gravel
The moss and bears and bandicoots are always on the travel
Australia's on the wallaby, on the sip to the cooey
The kangaroo, he packs his port, a name you've shown is bluey
The boomerangs are whizzing round, the dingo scratches gravel
The moss and bears and bandicoots are always on the travel
Australia's on the wallaby, on the sip to the cooey