Farewell and adieu to you, Brisbane ladies
Farewell and adieu, you maids of Toowong
We've sold all our cattle and we have to get a movin'
But we hope we shall see you again before long.
Chorus:
We'll rant and we'll roar like true Queensland drovers
We'll rant and we'll roar as onward we push
Until we return to the Augathella station
Oh, it's flamin' dry goin' through the old Queensland bush.
The first camp we make, we shall call it the Quart Pot,
Caboolture, then Kilcoy, and Collington's Hut,
We'll pull up at the stone house, Bob Williamson's paddock,
And early next morning we cross the Blackbutt.
Chorus
Then on to Taromeo and Yarraman Creek, lads,
It's there we shall make our next camp for the day
Where the water and grass are both plenty and sweet, lads,
And maybe we'll butcher a fat little stray.
Chorus
Then on to Nanango, that hard-bitten township
Where the out-of-work station-hands shit in the dust,
Where the shearers get shorn by old Tim, the contractor
Oh, I wouldn't go near there, but I flaming well must!
Chorus
The girls of Toomancie they look so entrancing
Like bawling young heifers they're out for their fun
With the waltz and the polka and all kinds of dancing
To the rackety old banjo of Bob Anderson.
Chorus
Then fill up your glasses, and drink to the lasses,
We'll drink this town dry, then farewell to them all
And when we've got back to the Augathella Station,
We hope you'll come by there and pay us a call.