Or is it this?


- Eric Bogle, on: NOW I'M EASY

For nearly sixty years, I've been a cocky.
Of droughts and fires and floods, I've lived through plenty.
This country's dust and mud
Have seen my tears and blood,
But it's nearly over now, and now I'm easy.

I married a fine girl when I was twenty,
But she died in giving birth when she was thirty.
No Flying Doctor then,
Just a gentle old black gin,
But it's nearly over now, and now I'm easy.

She left me with two sons and a daughter
And a bone-dry farm whose soil cried out for water,
So my care was rough and ready,
But they grew up fine and steady,
But it's nearly over now, and now I'm easy.

My daughter married young, and went her own way.
My sons lie buried by the Burma Railway,
So on this land I've made my own,
I've carried on alone,
But it's nearly over now, and now I'm easy.

City folks, these days, despise the cocky,
Say with subsidies and all, we've had it easy,
But there's no drought or starving stock
On a sewered suburban block,
But it's nearly over now, and now I'm easy.

ENDING: REPEAT FIRST VERSE

NOTES:
- Gin ("Jen"): an Australian aboriginal woman
- The term is now considered as derogatory as "squaw"

Regards Baz