Down to Gippsland in the summer,
When the steam is in the swamp,
And the ’skeeters bite like blazes,
There my bluey will I hump.
Past the Bunyip, Drouin, Moe,
Warragul and Longwarry, Poowong East, Fumina, Neerim,
Arrawatta, Allambee.
Down to Gippsland, where the roses
Clamber out upon the rails,
Where the “ cocky ” rides on sledges,
Where the green grass never fails.
Past the Tarrego and Baw Baw,
Kooweerup and Narracan,
Yarrayou, Traralgon, Willung,
Old Baromi and Mardan.
Visions of potato-digging,
Cutting scrub or ringing bark,
Bracken slashing, paling-splitting,
Till the mopoke hoots at dark.
Perhaps at Jindiwick or Yarram,
Perhaps Callignee or Mirboo,
Korumburra, Darnum, Morwell,
Boolarra or Woorayl will do.
Budgeree may claim my talents,
Darlimurla, Nar-nar-goon,
Tarwin Valley, Buln Buln,
Meeniyan may see me soon.
Sweet Kardella or Jumbunna,
Toora, Dollar, or Yinnar,
Any place will suit a swaggie
Any place where there’s a bar.