| I’m a ringer from the top end where ya gotta know your job
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| And what you’re doin' each day on 2 million acres you bet
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| Ya have to earn your pay if ya wanna take it on
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| There’s one thing that shouldn’t be forgotten
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| Nobody else can do the job like a ringer from the top end
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| Out on the fence line swallowing dust, blood on my hands from the barb
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| Hoping that rogue bull won’t see the hole before they get him in the yard
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| But I get a funny feeling in the middle of my back
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| Sure enough he’s coming like a train down the track
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| That’s when nobody else moves faster than the ringer from the top end
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| Instrumental
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| I’m a ringer from the top end
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| Where ya gotta muster 3 thousand head in a day
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| Move 'em to the yards and water them at end of day
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| It’s not the sort of job you’d take if you’re looking for a soft one
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| But ya take a kinda pride in saying, «I'm a ringer from the top end.»
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| Well I roll out my swag 'neath the boab tree
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| And then I’m out like a light dreaming about those girls in town
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| Next thing it’s broad daylight no time to dream of what might have been
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| I’m in a dirty bull catcher with the mustering team
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| I better keep my mind on the job 'cause I’m a ringer from the top end. |
| Hey!
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| And nobody does the job better than a ringer from the top end. |
| Oh Yeah! |