| Old Jack Drury worked at the brewery
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| Luggin' them bottles and cans
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| 'Til the steam age came crushed six mens jobs
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| And Jackies two good hands
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| So they killed the lights and chained the doors
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| They were fresh back from a bloody war
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| So for three whole days kept the coppers at bay
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| Raidin' the company store
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| Our Jack he were a hell of a clown
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| Even the march o' years couldn’t run him down
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| He were a real human, rough-cut diamond
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| They’re never many around
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| He said, 'Angers wasted on the youth
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| And wisdom on the old it’s the truth
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| I put the kids through hell but I taught 'em well
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| How to tip it all on its roof.'
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| Oh dear what can the matter be?
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| Seven young men they were locked in a factory
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| They were there from Thursday to Saturday
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| Oh what a horrid affair
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| Oh dear what can the matter be?
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| Seven young men they were locked in a factory
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| They were there from Thursday to Saturday
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| Oh what a sorry affair
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| He sad, 'The black people and the white
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| Should be out hookin' up tonight
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| Makin' pretty little brown skinned babies
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| With one less reason to fight
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| Don’t set your watch by Sydney trains
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| And don’t ever try to build
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| On them sacred lands, on tidal sands
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| Or the hearts of foolish girls.'
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| Oh dear what can the matter be?
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| Seven young men they were locked in a factory
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| They were there from Thursday to Saturday
|
| Oh what a horrid affair
|
| Oh dear what can the matter be?
|
| Seven young men they were locked in a factory
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| They were there from Thursday to Saturday
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| Oh what a sorry affair
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| 'They say Saturdays child works a long hard day
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| And I’ve given it all I can give
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| So you can stop tryin' to sell me a funeral plan
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| I’ve only just learned how to live
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| So pass the dutchie, wreck the halls
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| Leave public art on public walls
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| And get crackin' on a way to keep evil at bay
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| Don’t say you weren’t told…'
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| Oh dear what can the matter be?
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| Seven young men they were locked in a factory
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| They were there from Thursday to Saturday
|
| Oh what a horrid affair
|
| Oh dear what can the matter be?
|
| Seven young men they were locked in a factory
|
| They were there from Thursday to Saturday
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| Oh what a sorry affair |