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He's one of the battlers,
He's left his home
Across the Blue Mountains
He's forced to roam
Trying to pick up any odd job
Ready to work for a couple of bob.

Down, but not out,
On the wallaby
Trying to support a family.

While camped at Blaxland
His traps he set
Placing them carefully,
A rabbit he'd get.
Stop for 'track' rations each Friday
Stale bread from bakers then on your way.

At Bull's Camp he met with
Some twenty blokes
They shared their stories
And cracked their jokes
Yarned 'round the campfire into the night
And sang the old songs to forget their plight.

Just like the pioneers
Who tramped these tracks
With few possessions
Upon their backs
They're heading westward where their futures lie
Ready to give it another try.

© Jim Low

Across the Blue Mountains CD-Jim Low
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