Farmer Versus the City



Farmer Versus the City


I was working at a station up Womboyne way
When a chap came from the city to spend a holiday
One day in conversation he told me to my face
You must be flamin’ mad to work in this god forsaken place

It was then that I replied “although it seems a pity
I wouldn’t give an inch of bush for an acre in the city
I’ll take the snakes and sandflies. I’ll have the heat and dust
For it’s the reptiles in the city that we can’t afford to trust

So listen here young fellow, I make no ifs or buts
Someone has to work up here but few have got the guts
And when next you’re back in Sydney walking down an ashfelt street
Stop awhile and ponder where the butcher gets his meat

Or where the milkman gets his milk, his butter cheese or cream
Do you think you just go off to sleep and get them in a dream?
So unless you’re down at Bondi with little else to do
Then thank the Lord there’s blokes like us to feed the likes of you


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