[Editor: This was published in The Old Bush Songs, edited by Banjo Paterson, 1905.]
The Old Survey
Our money’s all spent, to the deuce it went!
The landlord, he looks glum;
On the tap-room wall, in a very bad scrawl,
He has chalked to us a sum.
But a glass we’ll take, ere the grey dawn break,
And then saddle up and away —
Theodolite-tum, theodolite-ti, theodolite-too-ral-ay.
With a measured beat fall our horses’ feet,
Galloping side by side;
When the money’s done, and we’ve had our fun,
We all are bound to ride.
O’er the far-off plain we’ll drag the chain,
And mark the settler’s way —
Theodolite-tum, theodolite-ti, theodolite-too-ral-ay.
We’ll range from the creeks to the mountain peaks,
And traverse far below;
Where foot never trod, we’ll mark with a rod
The limits of endless snow;
Each lofty crag we’ll plant with a flag,
To flash in the sun’s bright ray —
Theodolite-tum, theodolite-ti, theodolite-too-ral-ay.
Till with cash hard-earned once more returned,
At “The Beaver” bars we’ll shout;
And the very bad scrawI that’s against the wall
Ourselves shall see wiped out.
Such were the ways in the good old days! —
The days of the old survey!
Theodolite-tum, theodolite-ti, theodolite-too-ral-ay.
Source:
A. B. Paterson (editor). The Old Bush Songs, Angus and Robertson, Sydney, 1905, pages 17-18
The Institute of Australian Culture
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