Oh, this is a song of the old lights, that came to my 

heart like a hymn;

And this is a song for the old lights, the lights that 

we thought grew dim,

That came to my heart to comfort me, and I pass it 

along to you;

And here is a hand to the dear old friend who turns up 

as good as new.



And this is a song for the campfire, out west where the 

stars shine bright,

Oh, this is a song for the campfire, where the old 

mates yarn to-night;

Where the old mates yarn of the old days, and their 

numbers are all too few,

And this is a song for the great old times that will 

turn up as good as new. 



Oh, this is a song for the black sheep, for the black 

sheep that fled from town,

And this is a song for the brave heart, for the brave 

heart that lived it down;

And this is a song for the battler, for the battler who 

sees it through,

And this is a song for the broken heart that turns up 

as good as new. 



Ah, this is a song for the brave mate, be he Bushman, 

Scot, or Russ,

A song for the mates we will stick to, for the mates 

who have stuck to us;

And this is a song for the old creed, to do as a man 

should do,

Till the Lord takes us all to a wider world, where 

we'll turn up as good as new.