The Lonely Fettlers

We're just three lonely fettlers located right out West,
Midst heat and sand and desert we try to do our best;
Each morn at six you see us with shovels, bar and jack,
All day long through heat and dust, we toil along the track

Our camp is on a sandhill, there's nare a soul to meet,
'Cept for a weary swagman who wandered off his beat;
Just twice a week arrives a train with our supplies,
Just old corn beef and taters, some bread, and jam and flies.

You've got the lot the guard says, then gives the rightaway,
That train's our only visitor till our next ration day;
So listen all you fettlers who've never been outside the old suburban,
Any day – come pop along our outback way,

You'll get a family greeting, be sure you will not rust,
For water is so very scarce, you'll eat your pound of dust;
Just keep your courage growing and keep your chin well up,
Then life will be worth living, for full will be your cup.

Notes

By Railwayman Jim Gordon from the Retired Rail and Tramwayman magazine April 1940 Iron Road.