It was in the Queensland drought, and over hill and dell,No grass the water far apart, all dry and hot as hell.O'er the wretched bullock teams drew up beside a waterhole,They struggled on through dust and drought for days to reach this goal.And though the water rendered forth a rank and holy stench,The bullocks and the bullockies drank deep their thirst to quench.Now two of the drivers cursed and swore, as only drivers can,And the other one named Daniel, best known as Holy Daniel,Admonished them and said it was the Lord's all-wise decree,And if they'd only watch and wait, a change they'd quickly see.To a strange that of Dan's bullocks not one had gone aloft,But this he said was due to prayer and supplication oft,At last one died, but Dan was calm, he hardly seemed to care,He knelt beside the bullock's corpse and offered up a prayer,One bullock thou hast taken, Lord, and so it seemeth best,Thy will be done, but see my need, and spare to me the rest.A month went by, Dan's bullocks now were dying every day,But still on each occasion would the faithful fellow pray,Another thou hast taken, Lord, and so it seemeth best,Thy will be done, but see my need, and spare to me the rest.And still they count beside the whole, and still it never rained,And still Dan's bullocks died and died, till only one remained.Then Dan broke down, good holy Dan, the man who never swore,He knelt beside the latest corpse, and here's the prayer he poured,That's nineteen thou hast taken, Lord, and now you'll plainly see,Oh, you'd better take the bullock.And the bloody lot, one's no damn good to me,All the other riders laughed so much they shook the sky around,The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and holy Dan was drowned.