Middleton's Rouseabout

Slim Dusty

Tall and freckled and sandy, 
Face of a country lout; 
This was the picture of Andy, 
Middleton's Rouseabout. 

Type of a coming nation, 
In the land of cattle and sheep, 
He worked on Middleton's station, 
For a pound a week and his keep. 

On Middleton's wide dominions 
Plied the stockwhip and shears; 
Had he er hadn't any opinions, 
Had he hadn't any ideas'. 

Swiftly the years went over, 
And liquor and drought prevailed; 
And Middleton, he went as a drover, you know, 
After his station had failed. 

Type of a careless nation, 
Men who are soon played out, 
Middleton was: and so his station 
Bought by the Rouseabout. 

Now flourishing beard and sandy, 
He's tall, he's robust and stout; 
Yes this is the picture of Andy, you know, 
Middleton's Rouseabout. 

And now on his own dominions 
He works with his overseers; 
And he still hasn't any opinions, 
He hasn't any ideas.