Tie Me Kangaroo Down

by Rolf Harris

(spoken introduction)
There’s an old Australian stockman, lying, dying.
He gets himself up on one elbow, turns to his mates,
who are gathered ’round, and he says:

Watch me wallaby’s feed, mate,
Watch me wallaby’s feed.
They’re a dangerous breed, mate,
So watch me wallaby’s feed.
All together now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.
Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.

Keep me cockatoo cool, Curl,
Keep me cockatoo cool.
Don’t go acting the fool, Curl,
Keep me cockatoo cool.
All together now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.
Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.

Take me koala back, Jack,
Take me koala back.
He lives somewhere out on the track, Mac,
So take me koala back.
All together now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.
Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.

Mind me platypus duck, Bill,
Mind me platypus duck.
Don’t let him go running amuck, Bill,
Mind me platypus duck.
All together now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.
Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.

Play your didgeridoo, Blue,
Play your didgeridoo.
Keep playing ’til I shoot through, Blue,
Play your didgeridoo.
All together now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.
Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.

Tan me hide when I’m dead, Fred,
Tan me hide when I’m dead.
(spoken)
So we tanned his hide when he died, Clyde,
And that’s it hanging on the shed.
All together now!

Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.
Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.

Home Among The Gum Trees

by W. Johnson and B. Brown

I’ve been around the world a couple of time, or maybe more,
I’ve seen the sights, I’ve had delights on ev’ery foreign shore,
But when my friends all ask me the place that I adore,
I tell them right away.

Give me a home among the gum trees
With lots of plum trees, a sheep or two, a kangaroo.
A clothesline out the back, verandah out the front
And an old rocking chair.

You can see me in the kitchen cooking up a roast,
Or vegemite on toast, just you and me, a cup of tea.
Later on, we’ll settle down and mull up on the porch
And watch the possums play.

Give me a home among the gum trees.
With lots of plum trees, a sheep or two, a kangaroo.
A clothesline out the back, verandah out the front
And an old rocking chair.

There’s a Safeway on the corner and a Woolworths down the street,
A New World’s just been opened where they regulate the heat,
But I’d trade them all tomorrow for the simple bush retreat
Where the kookaburras call.

Give me a home among the gum trees.
With lots of plum trees, a sheep or two, a kangaroo.
A clothesline out the back, verandah out the front
And an old rocking chair.

Some people like their houses with fences all around,
Others live in mansions, and some beneath the ground,
But me, I like the bush, you know, with rabbits running round
And a pumpkin vine out the back.

Give me a home among the gum trees.
With lots of plum trees, a sheep or two, a kangaroo.
A clothesline out the back, verandah out the front
And an old rocking chair.

Home Among The Gum Trees on YouTube

Old Man Emu

by John Williamson

Let me tell you of an interview with an Old Man Emu
He’s got a beak and feathers and things, but the poor old fella ain’t got no wings
“Aren’t you jealous of the wedge-tail eagle?” – dom ba da little da da da

(Spoken in tempo) “While the eagle’s flying round and round, I keep my two feet firmly on the ground
I can’t fly, but I’m telling you, I can run the pants off a kangaroo”.

doo dee ba doo doo doo , boo da da doot doo doo doo
He can’t fly, but I’m telling you, he can run the pants off a kangaroo.

Well he was the model for the fifty cents – oom ba da little da da da
The designer should have had more sense – oom ba da little da da da
If you take a look, it’ll prove to you, I ran the pants off that kangaroo.

Doo dee ba doo doo doo…Boo da da doot doo doo..
Take a look it’ll prove to you, he can run the pants off the kangaroo.

You can’t loop the loop like a cockatoo – Oom ba da little da da da
Swoop and toss like an albatross – Oom ba da little da da da
“You silly galah, I’m better by far, than a white cockatoo or a budgerigar;
They squeak and squawk and try to talk, why me and them’s like cheese and chalk”
Ba da da Doo dee ba doo doo doo…Boo da da doot doo doo doo
He can’t fly but I’m telling you, he can run the pants off a kangaroo…

Well the last time I saw Old Man Emu – Oom ba da little da da da
He was chasing a female he knew – Oom ba da little da da da
As he shot past I heard him say “She can’t fly, but I’m telling you
She could run the pants off a kangaroo”. -

Ba da da Doo dee ba doo doo doo Doo dee ba doo doo doo…Boo da da doot doo doo doo
She can’t fly but I’m telling you, she can run the pants off a kangaroo

Well there is a moral to this ditty – Oom ba da little da da da
Thrush can sing but he ain’t pretty – Oom ba da little da da da
Duck can swim, but he can’t sing, nor can the eagle on the wing
Emu can’t fly, but I’m telling you, he can run the pants off a kangaroo.

Well the kookaburra laughed and said “It’s true, oom ba da little da da da,
Ha Ha Ha Ha Hah Hoo, He can run the pants off a kangaroo”

Old Man Emu by John Williamson on YouTube

BOTANY  BAY

Anonymous

Farewell to old England for ever,
Farewell to my rum culls as well,
Farewell to the well-known Old Bailey,
Where I used for to cut such a swell.

Chorus:
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-addity,
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-ay.
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-addity,
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-ay.

There’s a captain as is our commander,
There’s the bo’sun and all the ship’s crew,
There’s the first- and the second-class passengers,
Knows what we poor convicts goes through.

‘Tain’t leaving ol England we care about,
‘Tain’t cos we misspells wot we knows,
But because all we light-fingered gentry
Hops round with a log on our toes.

For fourteen long years I have ser-vi-ed,
And for fourteen long years and a day,
For meeting a bloke in the area,
And sneaking his ticker away.

Oh had I the wings of a turtle-dove,
I’d soar on my pinions so high,
Slap bang to the arms of my Polly love,
And in her sweet presence I’d die.

Now, all my young Dook-ies and Duch-ess-es,
Take warning from what I’ve to say –
Mind all is your own as you touch-ess-es,
Or you’ll meet us in Botany Bay.

CLICK GO THE SHEARS, BOYS

Anonymous

Out on the board the old shearer stands,
Grasping his shears in his long, bony hands.
Fixed is his gaze on a bare-bellied “joe”,
Glory if he gets her, won’t he make the ringer go.

Chorus:
Click go the shears, boys, click, click, click,
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick,
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow,
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied “joe”.

In the middle of the floor in his cane-bottomed chair
Is the boss of the board, with eyes everywhere;
Notes well each fleece as it comes to the screen,
Paying strict attention if it’s taken off clean.

The colonial-experience man, he is there, of course,
With his shiny leggin’s, just got off his horse,
Casting round his eye like a real connoisseur,
Whistling the old tune, “I’m the Perfect Lure”.

Now, Mister Newchum, for to begin,
In number seven paddock bring all the sheep in;
Don’t leave none behind, whatever you may do,
And then you’ll be fit for a jackeroo.

The tar-boy is there, awaiting in demand,
With his blackened tar-pot, and his tarry hand;
Sees one old sheep with a cut upon its back,
Hears what he’s waiting for, “Tar here, Jack.”

Shearing is all over and we’ve all got our cheques,
Roll up you sway for we’re off on the tracks;
The first pub we come to, it’s there we’ll have a spree,
And everyone that comes along it’s, “Come and drink with me!”

Down by the bar the old shearer stands,
Grasping his glass in his thin bony hands,
Fixed in his gaze on a green –painted keg,
Glory, he’ll get down on it, ere he stirs a peg.

There we leave him standing, shouting for all hands,
Whilst all around him every “shouter” stands;
His eyes are on the cask, which is now lowering fast,
He works hard, he drinks hard, and goes to hell at last.

WALTZING MATILDA

A.B. “Banjo” Paterson

Oh! There once was a swagman camped in a Billabong
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree;
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
‘Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?

Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda my darling,
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag –
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?

Down came a jumbuck to drink at the water-hole,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him in glee;
And he sang as he stowed him away in his tucker-bag,
‘You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!’

Down came the Squatter a-riding his thoroughbred;
Down came Policemen – one, two, and three.
‘Whose is the jumbuck you’ve got in the tucker-bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!’

But the swagman, he up and he jumped in the water-hole,
Drowning himself by the Coolabah tree;
And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the Billabong
‘Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?’

Ancient Aboriginal Cave Painting

Probably our most famous Aboriginal artist would be Albert Namatjira who is best known for his water-colour landscapes of the Macdonnell Ranges and the nearby regions of Central Australia. His painting style was more of a conventional approach to art unlike some of the Aboriginal art we see but his paintings do capture something special in them.

Aboriginal art has existed for many thousands of years. Some of the rock carvings and aboriginal paintings are 30,000 years old. These painting and carvings narrate the stories of the painter or sculptor.

The colours used in ancient Aboriginal art were natural shades of earth colours such as red, brown and yellow. The other colours used were white made from pipe clay and charcoal made by burning wood.

One of the traditional visual art forms of the Aboriginals is known as “Dot painting”. In dot painting, minute dots are used to create symbols and patterns on canvas. Traditional dot painters still use natural pigments derived from plants and seeds but some contemporary artists now use acrylic paints on canvas instead of natural earth colours.

At Australian Native T-Shirts we have quite a selection of Aboriginal art on t-shirts, ladies clothing, prints and wallhangings. Click here to check it out!

Along The Road To Gundagai

by Jack O’Hagan

There’s a track winding back
to an old-fashioned shack,
Along the road to Gundagai.

Where the gum trees are growin’
and the Murrumbidgee’s flowin’
beneath the starry sky.

Oh my mother and daddy are waitin’ for me
And the pals of my childhood once more I will see
And no more will I roam ‘cos I’m headin’ right for home
Along the road to Gundagai.

ON THE ROAD TO GUNDAGAI

Anonymous

Oh, we started down from Roto when the sheds had all cut out,
We’d whips and whips of Rhino as we meant to push about,
So we humped our blues serenely and made for Syndey town,
With a three-spot cheque between us, as wanted knocking down.

Chorus:
But we camped at Lazy Harry’s, on the road to Gundagai.
The road to Gundagai!  Not five miles from Gundagai!
Yes, we camped at Lazy Harry’s, on the road to Gundagai.

Well, we struck the Murrumbidgee near the Yanco in a week,
And passed through old Narrandera and crossed the Burnett Creek.
And we never stopped at Wagga, for we’d Sydney in our eye,
But we camped at Lazy Harry’s, on the road to Gundagai.

Oh, I’ve seen a lot of girls, my boys, and drunk a lot of beer,
And I’ve met with some of both, chaps, as has left me mighty queer,
But for beer to knock you sideways, and for girls to make you sigh,
You must camp at Lazy Harry’s, on the road to Gundagai.

Well we chucked our blooming swags off, and we walked into the bar,
And we called for rum-an’-raspb’ry and a shilling each cigar.
Bur the girl that served the pizen, she winked at Bill and I –
And we camped at Lazy Harry’s, not five miles from Gundagai.

In a week the spree was over and the cheque was all knocked down,
So we shouldered our Matildas, and we turned our back on town,
And the girls they stood a nobbler as we sadly said good-bye,
And we tramped from Lazy Harry’s, not five miles from Gundagai.

Last chorus:
And we tramped from Lazy Harry’s, nor five miles from Gundagai.

© AYArktos - The famous 'Dog on the Tucker Box' 5 miles from Gundagai.

I Still Call Australia Home

by Peter Allen

I’ve been to cities that never close down
From New York to Rio and old London town
But no matter how far
Or how wide I roam
I still call Australia home.

I’m always travelin’
And I love bein’ free
So I keep leavin’ the sun and the sea
But my heart lies waiting over the foam
I still call Australia home.

All the sons and daughters spinning ’round the world
Away from their families and friends
Ah, but as the world gets older and colder
It’s good to know where your journey ends.

And someday we’ll all be together once more
When all the ships come back to the shore
Then I realize something I’ve always known
I still call Australia home.

No matter how far
Or how wide I roam
I still call Australia home.