I’M a broken-down old squatter, my cash it is all gone,
    Of troubles and bad seasons I complain;
My cattle are all mortgaged, of horses I have none,
    And I’ve lost that little freehold on the plain.

CHORUS

    The stockyard’s broken down, and the woolshed’s tumbling in;
            I’ve written to the mortgagees in vain;
    My wool it is all damaged and it is not worth a pin,
            And I’ve lost that little freehold on the plain.

I commenced life as a squatter some twenty years ago,
    When fortune followed in my train;
But I speculated heavy and I’d have you all to know
    That I’ve lost that little freehold on the plain.

Chorus: The stockyard’s broken down, &c.

I built myself a mansion, and chose myself a wife;
    Of her I have no reason to complain;
For I thought I had sufficient to last me all my life,
    But I’ve lost that little freehold on the plain.

Chorus: The stockyard’s broken down, &c.

And now I am compelled to take a drover’s life,
    To drive cattle through the sunshine and the rain,
And to leave her behind me, my own dear loving wife—
    We were happy on that freehold on the plain.

Chorus: The stockyard’s broken down, &c.