A fella named Jack from way in the Outback along the Kidman Way, he’s been about in the bush with a road makin’ push but lives in Goolgowi today.
His name is Jack Bourke and he never did shirk
hard yakka when makin’ new roads.
With ‘is loader and roller and weight on ‘is shoulder ‘e still travels those roads ‘til this day, from Griffith to Bourke he still does not shirk, but tells tall tales -
as ‘e goes on ‘is way -
Tall Tale Teller.
Jack Bourke ‘e said ‘is name is, as we stood beside a tree. We both shook ‘ands and said “G’day”,
that fella Jack Bourke, and me.
Later on we got to yarnin’ about ol’ times in the bush
and the days ‘e spent breakn’ ground,
with a Shire road makin’ push.
He told me of Wanaaring on
the banks of the big Paroo.
He spoke about this fragile land
and what we all should do.
He’d built those roads from here to Bourke,
from Griffith to Fords Bridge
but many the tales he told me were ---
far from ridgy didge.
the red plains are good for growing things,
from the likes of golden crowbars, to ladies finger rings.
Crowbars grow just overnight
using morning dew, outback,
from planting in the rich red soil
a flat and brass thumb tack.
Ladies rings are easy,
usin’ star washers and some springs
with a touch of moonlight magic,
a tray of diamond rings.
Then, the wire netting water bag
got mentioned bye and bye.
A sly old grin creased his face.
He had a twinkle
in his eye ?