While The Billy BoilsSearchWe have toasted ourselves in the city’Til only the sober remained;With speeches both courtly and witty,A health to the ladies we’ve drained.But while the decanters are rattling,To speed the New Year on its track,Here’s luck to the boys who are battlingOut back.
From the Cross to Kurnalpi we’ve liftedThe dirt where the penny-weight gleams;From Dunne’s up to Darlot we’ve drifted,Bluey-up or alone with the teams;With you have I twisted the dishes,With you has my shammie grown slack,So I send you a pioneer’s wishesOut back.
Some there are who my message will read not,The Silence has swallowed them up,The swift-rolling years they will head notNor drain the convivial cup.The womenfolk did all the weeping,We seemed to’ve forgotten the knack,God’s rest to the boys who are sleepingOut back.