While The Billy BoilsSearchAustralia’s a big countryAn’ Freedom’s humpin’ bluey—An’ Freedom’s on the wallaby—Oh, don’t you hear ’er cooey?She’s just begun to boomerang,She’ll knock the tyrants silly—She’s going to light another fireAnd boil another billy.
Our fathers toiled for bitter breadWhile loafers thrived beside ’em—But food to eat and clothes to wear,Their native land denied ’em.An’ so they left their native landIn spite of their devotion—And so they came, (or if they stole,Were sent) across the ocean.
Then Freedom couldn’t stand the glareOf Royalty’s regalia—She left the loafers where they were,An’ came out to Australia.But now across the mighty mainThe chains have come to bind her –She little thought to see againThe wrongs she left behind her.
Our parents toiled to make a home –Hard grubbin’ ’twas and clearin’,They wasn’t troubled much with lordsWhen they was pioneerin’.But now that we have made the landA garden full of promise—Old greed must crook his dirty handAnd come and take it from us.
So we must fly a rebel flag,As others did before us—And we must sing a rebel songAnd join in rebel chorus.We’ll make the tyrants feel the stingOf those that they would throttle—They needn’t say the fault is oursIf blood should stain the wattle!