| Now the aeroplanes go screaming across the blue skies overhead | 
| And the big trucks cross the nation night and day | 
| While satellites bring TV to the homesteads in the bush | 
| And the limousines replace the horse and dray | 
| But our pioneering fathers had no comforts such as these | 
| They faced hardship with their women by their side | 
| With no wire or nails to help them in the vastness of the bush | 
| They built stockyards out of lancewood and greenhide | 
| And the cattle walked to market on the stock routes of the west | 
| And a man was judged by the way he used to ride | 
| And the Afghans with their camels were the road trains of the bush | 
| They built a nation out of stringy and greenhide | 
| Hey | 
| And with stringybark and mud daub they built the old bark hut | 
| And the shantys on the roadside by the way | 
| Oh they cleared the land and felled the trees with crosscut and the axe | 
| And with greenhide whip the bullocky held sway | 
| Oh they took their mobs of cattle and their spreading flocks of sheep | 
| And no mountain range or desert held them back | 
| Oh the battled thirst and heat in their bid to tame this land | 
| And the silent watchful ever stalking black | 
| And the cattle walked to market on the stock routes of the west | 
| And a man was judged by the way he used to ride | 
| And the Afghans with their camels were the road trains of the bush | 
| They built a nation out of stringy and greenhide | 
| Hey | 
| When no barbed wire bound the wide domains of the western cattle runs | 
| And the men were as wild as the land they used to roam | 
| Oh the greenhide rope and bridle were the stockmen’s tools of trade | 
| And a stringybark bush shelter was their home | 
| And when fine young men rode walers off to fight their countries war | 
| And made history with their suffering and their pain | 
| Oh they wrote the name Australia in the headlines of the world | 
| Will this country ever see their likes again? |