Euabalong Ball - A.L. Lloyd
Oh, who hasn't heard of Euabalong Ball,
Where the lads of the Lachlan,
The great and the small,
Come bent on diversion from far and from near
To cast off their troubles for just once a year.
Like stringy old wethers,
The shearers in force
All rushed to the bar as a matter of course.
While waltzing his cliner,
The manager cursed,
Cause someone had caught him
A jab with his spurs.
There were sheilas in plenty,
Some two or three score,
Some two-tooths, some weaners,
Some maybe some more,
With their fleeces all dipped
And so fluffy and clean,
Finest young shearlings
That ever was seen.
The boundary riders was frisking about
But the well sinkers seemed
To be feeling the drought.
If the water was scarce, well,
The whisky was there,
And what they couldn't drink,
Boys,
They rubbed in their hair.
There was music and dancing
And going the pace.
Some went at a canter,
Some went at a race.
There was bucking and gliding
And rooting and sliding,
And to vary the gait,
Some couples colliding.
Oh, Euabalong Ball was a wonderful sight,
Rams among the two-tooths
The whole flaming night.
And many young girls will regret to recall
The polkas they danced at Euabalong Ball.
