Wife to a Cocky Farmer
Richard Keam

I am the one who has carried the can since time before time began,
Or that's the way that it's often seemed since I married a dairying man.
We've had our times, and we've had our strife. It's a good but an awful hard, hard life,
And the one thing sure is you'll pay the price when you're wed to a cocky farmer.

I was the one got the bookwork done when the kids were in bed at night,
And up every morn before the dawn when the winter frosts would bite,
And I swapped me good clothes long ago for gum boots and an overcoat,
And a lifetime bailing a sinking boat for the sake of a cocky farmer,

And the sound of the scenes in me very dreams is the sound of the milk can lids,
And I never knew how we'd get through but we managed to raise four kids,
And the time that we spent away from here was less than a month in twenty years.
Now the kids have gone but they shed no tears for the life of a cocky farmer.

And the price we get never keeps in step with the prices that we pay,
But you can't tell cows that they're out on strike. You're a slave to them night and day,
And we've seen the neighbours all around toss it in and move to the local town,
But you talk of this and he only frowns. He'll die a cocky farmer,

And they used to say that i wore the pants in the days when they said such things,
But I was a one when I was young for a bit of a wild old fling.
Saturday nights at the Shire Hall dance, stars in me eyes and a head for a romance,
And sometimes I think that I'm still young Nance, not the wife of a cocky farmer.
Sometimes in me dreams I'm still young Nance, not the wife of a cocky farmer.

Recorded by Judy Small. Also by Margaret Walters, but I don't think Marg's recording is online.