I'm a plain Australian bushman and I've drifted far and 
wide,
I'm a jack-of-all-trades in the bush and I say that 
with pride,
I'm only one of many who are batt'ling in the scrub,
Workin' for an honest wage, may be to splash in some 
old pub,
For we are ringers, fencers, shearers, we are drovers 
on the track,
We are miners and road builders op'ning up the great 
outback,
Hard drinkers and hard workers and we give but never 
lend,
And we wander 'cos we know our goal lies 'round the 
distant bend.

[Instrumental]

Our wives are mostly stickers so they sacrifice and 
save,
In lonely isolation, understanding, true and brave,
They rouse and scold and nurse us when we're getting 
off the spree
And I wonder why such women stick to blokes like you 
and me,
We are precious cooks and rousers thru and brumby 
shooters too,
Horse breakers and truck drivers, taking pride in all 
we do,
Hard drinkers and hard fighters and we give but never 
lend,
And we wander 'cos we know our goal lies 'round the 
distant bend.

[Instrumental]

We take pride in our possessions which are mostly old 
and few,
And we plan while we are workin' how we'll start our 
life anew,
But plans and cheques are slaughtered when we hit the 
nearest pub,
Then it's back out bush to work and plan and rough it 
in the scrub,
Oh, we are ringers, fencers, shearers, we are drovers 
on the track,
We are miners and road builders op'ning up the great 
outback,
Hard drinkers and hard workers and we give but never 
lend,
And we wander 'cos we know our goal lies 'round the 
distant bend.

Yes we wander 'cos we know our goal lies 'round the 
distant bend.