Out on the porch, the old shearer stands

Grasping his shears in his thin bony hands

Fixed is his gaze on a blue-belly Joe

Glory! if he gets there, won't he make the ringer go



CHORUS:

Click! go the shears, boys, Click! Click! Click!

Wide is his bow and his hands move quick

The ringer looks around and he's beaten by a blow

And curses he a swagger with a beer-bellied Joe



The shearing is all over, we've all got our checks

It's roll up our swags and we're off along the tracks

The first pub we come to, we'll all have a spree

And everyone that comes along, it's "Have a drink on me!"



Click! go the shears, boys, Click! Click! Click!

Wide is his bow and his hands move quick

The ringer looks around and he's beaten by a blow

And curses he a swagger with a beer-bellied Joe