Well I've ripped and dug out burrows on a sandy bulloak hill,
Eradicating rabbits doesn't take a lot of skill
But a boy born in the Mallee doesn't find 'em hard to kill
No self-respecting farmer lets a rodent eat his wheat
He'll shoot 'em and he'll skin 'em and he'll dress 'em up to eat
But since the spread of mixo He's almost got 'em beat
And I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee boy
Where little town dogs howl at the morning train,
Where a cocky makes a living on twelve inches of rain
Where his woman provides and is rare to complain
And I still love the smell of that sandy soil,
Some say it's dusty, some say it's gold
Cause it grows the sweetest fat lambs the markets ever sold
And I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy,
No I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy.
Where slickers bring their shotguns from miles away,
And shoot the life out of shags and swans that fly their way.
Where a bloke grows as stocky as a Mallee bull,
Where they come from miles around to see the tractor pull,
When the paddocks are clean and seed silos are full,
And I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy.
Well I've ripped and dug out burrows on a sandy bulloak hill,
Eradicating rabbits doesn't take a lot of skill,
And a boy born in the Mallee doesn't find 'em hard to kill.
But they'll never be as rare as a Quandong tree
My grandma made some jam for my brothers and me
They're like the Mallee Fowl you hardly ever see
But I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy.
No I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy.
No I don't mind at all if you call me a Mallee Boy.