If I'd 'a had two I'd 'a held 'em; but just because I had four,
An' the black colt in for the first time, an' the bay mare lookin' for war,
Out of a bank o' purple came lightnin' splittin' the trees
An' playin' above the leaders an' drivin' 'em barmy as bees,
VVi' thunder crackin across 'em as loud as the crack o' doom
Till I prayed for better-built harness an' a mile or two more o' room ;
For Dandy he lifted the bar-bit as light as a lady's thread,
An' Judy, she up wi' her wanton heels an' down wi' her damn little head ;
Then rip went his rotten-sewn traces the colt was out over the bars ;
An' I said, as I looked at the lightnin',' The next thing we'11 see'11 be stars ! '
But I braced my feet on the footboard and hammered the brake right back;
I wasn't the man to be caught asleep, for I've driven the Barwon track
For fifteen year wi' the Queensland mails, wi' four rough brutes to steer,
An' never a one you could hook to a bar without he was held by the ear!
So I took a pull an' a long cross-pull, an' I sawed 'em good an' well.
For I 've had 'em bolt in the Queensland Bush wi' their mouths as tough as Hell;
An', faith, but I had 'em back in hand when crash came another peal.
An' the colt let out a whistlin' snort an' the mare a vicious squeal.
An' a winker slewed an' a couplin' broke an' away they went like mad.
An' I might ha' been dead in the stable loft for all the hope I had!
Now a Queensland team there 's a chance to stop, for they 're either too fat or thin ;
But these 'ere nags that the English drive, they are fit for a Derby win,
An' England herself is the size of a yard an' her roads is the width of a trough :
A gallop an' you 're at the island's edge, a kirk an you 're kicked right off
'Now,' I says to myself, ' were you only out on the Thurulgoona plains
With a five-mile paddock to swing them in an' a bunch of Roma reins
You might have a chance ; but it looks, old son, as if your cake was dough
With a couplin' gone an' the winkers slipped an' a crowded road to go.
An' an island less than a saucer 's size to run your horses roun','
An' I says to myself, ' It 's no surprise if we finish it upside down!
So that 's why I'm here in an English ditch with the pole between my knees
An' people in motors bummin' about like a hive of hungry bees,
My leaders gone on the London Road a-draggin' my swingle-bars
Up an* down o' the Surrey hills an' in an' out o' the cars,
An' one o' my wheelers over the fence in a field of English wheat
An the other lyin' dead on the road wi' my topper on one of his feet !
An' the thunder 's gone, an' the sky is clear, an' the sun is shinin' bright,
An' I don't care but my passengers, they got a Hell of a fright;
An' if ever I drive that colt again when there's thunder clouds about
I'll hook 'im up wi' a bullock-chain an' a hook what won't come out!
