Our fathers toiled for bitter bread
    While loafers thrived beside ’em,
But food to eat and clothes to wear,
    Their native land denied ’em.
An’ so they left their native land
    In spite of their devotion,
An’ so they came, or if they stole,
    Were sent across the ocean.

Then Freedom couldn’t stand the glare
    O’ Royalty’s regalia,
She left the loafers where they were,
    An’ came out to Australia.
But now across the mighty main
    The chains have come ter bind her—
She little thought to see again
    The wrongs she left behind her.

Our parents toil’d to make a home—
    Hard grubbin’ ’twas an’ clearin’—
They wasn’t crowded much with lords
    When they was pioneering.
But now that we have made the land
    A garden full of promise,
Old Greed must crook ’is dirty hand
    And come ter take it from us.

So we must fly a rebel flag,
    As others did before us,
And we must sing a rebel song
    And join in rebel chorus.
We’ll make the tyrants feel the sting
    O’ those that they would throttle;
They needn’t say the fault is ours
    If blood should stain the wattle!