I'm a bald headed,
Bowed legged booze loving battler bred born and brung up at Ballarat
And I near go berserk if you offer me work,
Cause that's one thing I sherk where I'm ever at
I tell lots of lies and I con wealthy
Guys and they don't realise what I'm comin at
Till there moneys all gone and they find they've
Been conned and I swiftly move on I can tell you that
It near makes me sick to see men swing a pick
While there sweats running thick in the blazing sun
It's a terrible sight and it gives me a
Fright it just isn't right when all said and done
So I just close my eyes and I quickly pass
By and I heave a great sigh and I nearly run
But runnings a strain and from that I
I dine on the best I accept nothing
Less and my fashion of dress is immaculate
I live like a king cause I con
Everything in the big social ring where I operate
Rich women of fame are the safest of game
For there name they wont shame or contaminate
But they fall for my line and a fat cheque
They sign and then feeling so fine I evacuate
I'm a bald headed booze loving bowed
Legged battler bred born and brung up at Ballarat
And I wont toil or sweat well I've never
Done yet and I have no regret you can bet on that