Now I've listened to tales that the oldsters told from Bourke to Camooweal
And on dusty tracks in the southern states from Orbost to Warracknabeal
Some were grave and some were gay and some with humour too
And each of the tellers always swore that the tale that he told was true
Old Paddy the Dancer a swagman of note who followed the 'Bidgee run
Found himself on the tucker track and most of his food was done
So he pondered awhile and thought at last as far as he could see
That he'd have to catch himself a cod to cook on the coals for tea
So he rigged a line from binder twine that he'd scrounged from a farmers hay
And then fashioned a hook from a rusty nail that got stuck in his foot that day
Well he looked with pride on his fishing gear and to try he could hardly wait
Then he saw at last as anglers do you must cover your hook with bait
He remembered a tale that someone told in the dim and distant past
That frogs were the things that the anglers used for the fish to break their fasts
But frogs were as scarce as teeth on hens or that's what he said to me
But he searched around till he found a frog at the foot of a light wood tree
Well he stalked that frog on hands and knees like big game hunters do
But a black snake coming the other way had the same idea in view
But both of them grabbed together but the snake was a fraction fast
It swallowed the frog but found itself held in the swagman's grasp
Well he fished from his pocket a flask he had of very potent grog
And said with a sigh it must be done I want that flamin' frog
Well he squeezed that wriggling reptile's neck til its jaws were opened wide
Then with tears in eyes he poured the lot into the snakes' insides
Well it gave a gurgle and then a gulp and then quite a twist or two
And there was that old frog in the light of day almost as good as new
Well he grabbed that frog and then hurried away to bait up his rusty hook
And then lay back on the grassy bank by the side of that peaceful brook
Then he felt a tap on his shoulderblade and turned with eyes agog!!
And there was that snake all bleary eyed in its mouth was another frog
Well that was the tale that was told to me at a camp on the reedy flat
Maybe it's true or maybe not you'd best be the judge of that
But what I can hardly believe is, is the way that he liked the grog
He would give it away to a worthless snake for the sake of a useless frog.
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From his album: "Essentially Australian"
And on dusty tracks in the southern states from Orbost to Warracknabeal
Some were grave and some were gay and some with humour too
And each of the tellers always swore that the tale that he told was true
Old Paddy the Dancer a swagman of note who followed the 'Bidgee run
Found himself on the tucker track and most of his food was done
So he pondered awhile and thought at last as far as he could see
That he'd have to catch himself a cod to cook on the coals for tea
So he rigged a line from binder twine that he'd scrounged from a farmers hay
And then fashioned a hook from a rusty nail that got stuck in his foot that day
Well he looked with pride on his fishing gear and to try he could hardly wait
Then he saw at last as anglers do you must cover your hook with bait
He remembered a tale that someone told in the dim and distant past
That frogs were the things that the anglers used for the fish to break their fasts
But frogs were as scarce as teeth on hens or that's what he said to me
But he searched around till he found a frog at the foot of a light wood tree
Well he stalked that frog on hands and knees like big game hunters do
But a black snake coming the other way had the same idea in view
But both of them grabbed together but the snake was a fraction fast
It swallowed the frog but found itself held in the swagman's grasp
Well he fished from his pocket a flask he had of very potent grog
And said with a sigh it must be done I want that flamin' frog
Well he squeezed that wriggling reptile's neck til its jaws were opened wide
Then with tears in eyes he poured the lot into the snakes' insides
Well it gave a gurgle and then a gulp and then quite a twist or two
And there was that old frog in the light of day almost as good as new
Well he grabbed that frog and then hurried away to bait up his rusty hook
And then lay back on the grassy bank by the side of that peaceful brook
Then he felt a tap on his shoulderblade and turned with eyes agog!!
And there was that snake all bleary eyed in its mouth was another frog
Well that was the tale that was told to me at a camp on the reedy flat
Maybe it's true or maybe not you'd best be the judge of that
But what I can hardly believe is, is the way that he liked the grog
He would give it away to a worthless snake for the sake of a useless frog.
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From his album: "Essentially Australian"