I just think about all the pieces that I picked up off you.
You know, I reckon the one that still sticks to my mind is that one of the two of us here.
Yeah.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
All right, do it.
Yeah, yeah.
All right?
Let her go.
I camped one night in an empty hut by the side of a lonely hill.
I didn't go much in the empty hut, but the night was awful chill.
I boiled the old billy and had me tea, made sure that the door was shut, and I went to
sleep in the empty bunk by the side of the old bark hut.
It must have been in the middle of the night when I was feeling cosy and warm.
I awoke, and there at the bottom of the bunk I saw a horrible, ghostly wall.
It looked to me like some sort of ape, had a head like a chimpanzee's.
I wondered what it was doing there, and what did it want from me?
It gave a groan, a horrible moan.
My blood run cold with fear.
There's only the two of us here, it said.
There's only the two of us here.
I had no weapon to defend meself, couldn't find a stick nor a stone.
There's only the two of us here, it said, again with a horrible moan.
At last I managed to make some reply, as I thought that the end was near.
I said, "'Tis an old man, just wait till I get me boots, and there'll only be one of us here."
And I gets me hand in me number tens, and out through the door I scoots,
and I lift the whole of the ridges up with the sparks from me blue-chip.
And I never slept in that hut since then, and I tremble and shake with fear.
When I think of the horrible brute and moan, there's only the two of us here.
You haven't lost it, you know.
Here's one we'd like to do, Lou, and I wrote this one.
We wrote this one, and I think it's a pretty true story in how we feel about everything, mate.
And it's all about you, old fella.
Is it right what they're telling me, old fella?
You lost the mate you had for forty years.
No way could you tell me how you feel, old fella.
No way could I write you how I feel.
So we'll leave it there and talk about some other things.
I just thought I'd drop a line or two to say,
cause you're a mate of mine, you always were, old fella.
And I'll do my best to see it stays that way.
I don't want to buy a fight, you know, old fella.
But I hardly can believe the things I hear.
How the rodeos and riding are all changing, they tell me.
Well, I bet you spoke your piece real loud and clear.
Being a pick-up man for years you have, old fella.
And the boys aren't doing bad, you taught them well.
Just wish the rest would leave our style of doing things alone.
Tell those no old yanks to go to hell, hey.
Well, it's pretty dry still down our way, old fella.
And how's the country doing on your place?
I hear the boys are working north of old Keeler Valley.
If they work like you, I know they'll set a pace.
How many young ones learn from you, old fella?
The way to handle cattle and a horse.
I see a team of kids, they're always hanging around you.
They're listening as you spoke the old bush verse, yeah.
Mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm, mm.
Here's a verse that's pretty true, old fella.
There's no money round the place these days, old fella.
Reminds me of the lean years that you knew.
And the drought is closing in on top of us small fellas.
But we're hanging on the way you taught us to.
I just wonder if we'll see it all come good again.
Not just the land, but the way of life we had.
Ah, but it does the old heart good to hear you say, old fella.
Compared to years ago, it's not too bad.
So goodbye for now and keep in touch, old fella.
And get around again to drop a line.
And say good day like no one else can say it, old fella.
For I miss your voice these days, old mate of mine.
You old ***.
APPLAUSE
Hey, old fella.