Oh, the radio tells me it's raining
But that I can see for myself
And they tell me a cyclone is coming
Oh, I surely could do with some help
This little old shovel I'm holding
Looks puny beside this big Mac
She's down to the diff and still going
And there's only more mud up the track
Oh, I've revved and I've rocked and reversed it
Oh, I've dug at the mud on the wheels
I've kicked and I've sworn and I've cursed it
And to the good Lord I've appealed
But the line-up to heaven ain't open
I've a feeling I'm not getting through
Oh, I'll just have to lighten the load
One carton of stubbies should do
Oh, I wonder if ever they'd miss it
One carton from all of those tons
But I'll bet you they'd be asking where is it
And licking their dry dusty tongues
Oh, I can picture those miners all dying
Of thirst in that drought stricken town
While here in the mud, I've been trying
And striving to put the booze down
And in each of these stubbies I empty
I insert a small note of distress
And cast it adrift in the gully
An SOS out of the west
How many days have I languished
Here in this swamp called a road
While in my despair and my anguish
I've been working at lightening the load
Perhaps some old fisherman casting
His line on the Barrier Reef
Will see all these stubbies go past him
And come sailing up to my relief
And won't we all have such a booze up
The best ever seen on this road
But I doubt if they ever will choose us
To carry their next flaming load
So good health to the sand flies and skeeters
Good luck to that solemn old frog
Oh, I'm damned if this rain's going to beat me
Thank hell for this truck load of grog
Oh, send her down huey you beauty
You got the right knack of doing it now
All my sorrows have drowned well and truly
And there's plenty more booze to put down
Ah, it's lonesome, what am I doing about it?
Stopping in front of my darling