Now the weary week has ended, it's pay day on the job

Let's go down to the local and mingle with the mob

You'll meet the dinkum Aussies, rough and ready as they are

With hard faces brown as leather, lined up around the bar



Someone is sure to greet you, you chaps I'm glad to see

Come on you pair of somethings, and have a drink with me

While the barmaid juggles glasses and the boss works with a will

For he loves to hear the rattle of the silver in the till



Now the rousabout is busy, he hasn't time to think

And I'm sure he'd never hear you if you ask him for a drink

Oh the barrels that are heavy will be light ones very soon

When the brumbies come to water on a pay day afternoon



Now the world is such a great place, everyone is doing well

And strange it is to listen to the stories that they tell

Some are ridin' buckin' brumbies, some are up north in the cane

Some are growling at the weather and are wishing it would rain



And there's old Jimmy Wooter in the corner by himself

Telling stories to the bottles that are standing on the shelf

Oh he once was high and mighty though forlorn he's looking now

In a hat that came from nowhere and a torn old Jackie Howe



Now the clock is moving onwards, the lightweights have their fill

But those with more horse power are staying with it still

Some have already had it and are layed out in a swoon

They'll be grumpy when they wake up on a pay day afternoon



Hear the hen-pecked hubbies saying what will become of me

For I told my little woman that I'd hurry home to tea

She's going to play old Harry and whale like one bereft

When she digs into my pockets and she finds there's little left

But if he uses a bit of blarney she'll forgive