While The Billy BoilsSearchHere lies a bloke who’s just gone West,A Number One Australian;He took his gun and did his bestTo mitigate the alien.So long as he could get to workHe needed no sagacity;A German, Austrian, or Turk,Were all the same to Cassidy.
Whenever he could raise “the stuff”—A liquor deleteriousThe question when he’d have enoughWas apt to be mysterious.’Twould worry prudent folks a lotThrough mental incapacity;If he could keep it down or not,Was all the same to Cassidy.
And when the boys would start a dance,In honour of Terpsichore,’Twas just an even-money chanceYou’d find him rather shickery.But once he struck his proper stride,And heard the band’s vivacity,The jazz, the tango, or the slideWas all the same to Cassidy.
And now he’s gone to face the Light,With all it may reveal to him,A life without a drink or fightPerhaps may not appeal to him;But when St Peter calls the rollOf men of proved tenacity,You’ll find the front-rank right-hand manWill answer: “Here...Cassidy.”