Out on the porch, the old shearer stands
Grasping his shears in his thin bony hands
Fixed is his gaze on a blue-belly Joe
Glory! if he gets there, won't he make the ringer go
CHORUS:
Click! go the shears, boys, Click! Click! Click!
Wide is his bow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and he's beaten by a blow
And curses he a swagger with a beer-bellied Joe
The shearing is all over, we've all got our checks
It's roll up our swags and we're off along the tracks
The first pub we come to, we'll all have a spree
And everyone that comes along, it's "Have a drink on me!"
Click! go the shears, boys, Click! Click! Click!
Wide is his bow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and he's beaten by a blow
And curses he a swagger with a beer-bellied Joe
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