| lyric | For nearly sixty years I've been a cocky.
Through drought fire and flood I’ve lived plenty.
This country’s dust and mud
has seen my tears and blood.
But it’s nearly over now,
And now I’m easy.
I married a fine young girl when Iwas twenty;
But she died in giving birth when she was thirty,
No flying Doctor then,
Just a gentle old black gin;
But it's nearly over now,
And now I'm easy.
She left me with two sons and a daughter;
And a bone-dry farm whose soil cried out for water,
My care was rough and ready,
But they grew up fine and steady;
But it's nearly over now,
And now I'm easy.
My daughter married young, and went her own way;
My sons lie buried by the Burma Railway;
So on the land I've made my own,
I've carried on alone,
But it's nearly over now,
And now I'm easy.
City folks these days despise the cocky,
Say with subsidies and all, we've had it easy,
But there's no drought or starving stock,
On your sewered suburban block,
But it's nearly over now,
And now I'm easy.
Repeat first verse. |