Five Miles From Guandagai

I’m used to punchin’ bullock teams across the hills and plains.
I’ve teamed outback for forty years through bleedin’ hail and rain.
I’ve had me share of troubles boys, but till I die
But I can’t forget what happened just five miles from Gundagai.

‘Twas getting dark, the team got bogged, the axle snapped in two.
I lost me matches and me pipe, so what was I to do?
The rain it was a-coming on, and a bit cold, and hungry too was I,
And me doggie shat in me tucker-box five miles from Gundagai.

Some blokes I know have stacks of luck, no matter where they fall,
But there was I, Lord love a duck, no bloody luck at all.
I couldn’t heat a pot of tea or keep me trousers dry,
And the dog shat in me tucker-box five miles from Gundagai.

I can forgive the damp and cold and I can forgive the rain.
I can forgive the bleedin’ team, and go through it again.
I can forgive the rotten luck, but hang me till I die,
I can’t forgive that bloody dog, five miles from Gundagai.