| Once when I was musterin', out Carnarvon way
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| I had a mob of musterers aworkin' night an' day
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| Well when the mobs were restin', you wouldn’t hear a
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| But when they started movin' you could hear all around
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| Hey, stitch 'em up, fetch 'em back, turn the leaders
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| Then come behind, come behind, come behind, you hound
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| Oh, we were under contract to run the scrubbers there
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| In amongst the gorges, the caves an' prickly-pear
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| We’d bulge 'em through the timber to sweep them down
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| And if we saw a Mickey break, we’d yell this old
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| Hey, stitch 'em up, fetch 'em back, turn that blighter
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| Then come behind, come behind, come behind, you hound
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| I had a dog called Bluey, a terrier called Dot
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| And if I ever wanted them, well, they were on the spot
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| They’d trot along beside me, as quiet as fallin' snow
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| And you could see them strainin' when I’d give the word
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| Hey stitch 'em up, fetch 'em back, turn the leaders
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| Then come behind, come behind, come behind, you hound
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| We’d box 'em in the big yard an' draft 'em through the
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| We’d hit 'em with the red-hot brand an' leave 'em safe
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| We didn’t mind the sweatin' or workin' rather hard
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| But boys you’d hear a swearin' when they broke out of
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| Hey stitch 'em up, fetch 'em back, turn the leaders
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| Then come behind, come behind, come behind, you hound
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| But the boys they liked it tough, an' sure had lots o'
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| Now if you were to ask me what stood out on my mind
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| Well if you’d like to wait a tick, I will soon unwind
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| Hey stitch 'em up, fetch 'em back, turn the leaders
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| Then come behind, come behind, come behind, you hound. |