Great Northern Line collected from Duke Tritton by John Meredith

My love he is a teamster, a handsome man is he,
Red shirt, white moleskin trousers, and hat of cabbage-tree;
He drives a team of bullocks, and whether it's wet or fine
You will hear his whip a-cracking on the Great Northern Line.

Chorus:
Watch him, pipe him, twig him how he goes,
With his little team of bullocks, he cuts no dirty shows;
He's one of the flash young carriers that on the road do shine,
With his little team of bullocks on the Great Northern Line.

And when he swings the greenhide whip he raises skin and hair;
His bullocks all have shrivelled horns, for, Lordy, can he swear!
ut I will always love him, this splendid man of mine,
With his little team of bullocks on the Great Northern Line.

When he bogged at Mundowie and the bullocks took the yoke,
y strained with bellies on the ground until the bar-chain broke.
e fixed it up with wire and brought wool from Bundamine
With his little team of bullocks on the Great Northern Line.

When he comes into Tamworth you will hear the ladies sigh,
And parents guard their daughters, for he has a roving eye;
But he signals with his bullock-whip as he comes through the pine,
With his little team of bullocks on the Great Northern Line.