Out on the board the old shearer stands
Grasping his shears in his thin bony hands
Fixed is his gaze on a blue-bellied joe
Glory if he gets her, won't he make the ringer go

Click go the shears, boys, click click click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied joe

In the middle of the floor in his cane-bottomed chair
The boss of the board with his eyes everywhere
Notes well each fleece as it comes to the screen
Paying strict attention if it's taken off clean

Click go the shears, boys, click click click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied joe

The colonial experience man, oh he is there of course
With his shiny leggin's, and just off his horse
Casting 'round his eyes like a real connoisseur
Whistling the old-timer tune, I'm the Perfect Lure

Click go the shears, boys, click click click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied joe
The tar-boy is there, a-waitin' in demand
With his blackened tar-pot and his tarry hand
Sees one old sheep with a cut upon his back
Here is what he's waiting for, Tar here, Jack!

Click go the shears, boys, click click click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied joe

The shearing is all over, and we've all got our cheques
Roll up your swag, oh we're off for the tracks
The first pub we come to, it's there we'll have a spree
And everyone that comes along, it's Come and drink with me

Click go the shears, boys, click click click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied joe

Down by the bar the old shearer stands
Grasping his glass in his thin bony hands
Fixed is his gaze on a green-painted keg
Glory, he'll get down on it, ere he stirs a peg

Click go the shears, boys, click click click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied joe
There we leave him standing, shouting for all hands
Whilst all around him every shooter stands
His eyes are on the cask which now is lowering fast
He works hard, he drinks hard, and goes to Hell at last

Click go the shears, boys, click click click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the blue-bellied joe