He was caught in the big mine office Surrounded by police and scabs He gazed out into the township Watching the trams and cabs Then came the relief of pickets Then up went cheer after cheer And the bandit struck up Bill Bailey And he fancied these words he could hear You are a scab, a loyalist to the mine You scabbed on your workmates For not falling into line You drive the big mine lorry You bend your head with shame You're afraid to look at your workmates And Packer is your name
