Bluey Brink

There once was a shearer, by name Bluey Brink
A devil for work and a devil for drink
He could shear his two hundred a day without fear
And drink without winking four gallons of beer

Now Jimmy, the barman, who served out the drink
He hated the sight of this here Bluey Brink
Who stayed much too late and who came much too soon;
At evening, at morning, at night and at noon

One morning as Jimmy was cleaning the bar
With sulphuric acid he kept in a jar
Old Bluey came yelling and bawling with thirst
“Whatever you got, Jim, just hand me the first.”

Now, it ain't in the history, it ain't put in print
But Bluey drank acid with never a wink
Saying, “That's the stuff, Jimmy, why, strike me stone dead
This'll make me the ringer of Stevenson's shed.”

Now all that long day, as he served out the beer
Poor Jimmy was sick with his trouble and fear
Too worried to argue, too anxious to fight
Seeing the shearer a corpse in his fright

Now early next morning he opened the door
And along came the shearer asking for more;
With his eyebrows all singed and his whiskers deranged
And holes in his hide like a dog with the mange

Says Jimmy, “And how did you find the new stuff?”
Says Bluey, “It's fine but I've not had enough
It gives me great courage to shear and to fight
But why does this stuff set my whiskers alight?

I thought I knew drink but I must have been wrong
For what you just give me was proper and strong
It set me to coughing, and you know I'm no liar
And every cough sets my whiskers on fire.”