The men who owned the acres saw something must be done
"We’ll break the Shearers' Union, and show we're masters still
And they'll take the terms we give them, or we'll find the men who will."
From Claremont to Barcaldine, the shearers' camps were full,
Ten thousand blades were ready to strip the greasy wool,
When through the west like thunder, rang out the Union's call:
"The sheds'll be shore Union or they won't be shorn at all."
Oh, Billy Lane was with them, his words were like a flame;
The flag of blue above them, they spoke Eureka's name.
"Tomorrow," said the squatters, "they'll find it does not pay.
We're bringing up free labourers to get the clip away"
"Tomorrow," said the shearers, "they may not be so keen
We can mount three thousand horses, to show them what we mean"
"Then we'll pack the west with troopers, from Bourke to Charters Towers.
You can have your fill of speeches but the final strength is ours!"
"Be damned to your six-shooters, your troopers and police.
The sheep are growing heavy, the burr is in the fleece!"
"Then if Nordenfeldt and Gatling won't bring you to your knees,
We'll find a law," the squatters said, "that's made for times like these!"
To trial at Rockhampton the fourteen men were brought;
The judge had got his orders, the squatters owned the court,
But for every one that's sentenced, ten thousand won't forget.
When they jail a man for striking, it's a rich man's country yet.
Contributed by Bernart - 2013/7/23 - 11:55
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