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Farewell and adieu to you Brisbane ladies,
Farewell and adieu to the girls of Toowong.
We've sold all our cattle and can't stay no longer,
But we hope that we'll see you again before long.

Chorus:
And we'll rant and we'll roar like true Queensland drovers,
We'll rant and we'll roar as onward we push
Until we return to Augathella station,
And it's flaming dry going through the old Queensland bush.

The first camp we make, we call it the Quart Pot,
Cabbolture and Kilcoy, then Collington hut.
We'll pull up at the Stone House, Bob Williams his paddock
And early next morning we cross the Blackbutt.

And on past Taromeo to Yarraman Creek, boys,
It's there that we'll make a fine camp for the day.
Where water and grass is both plenty and good, boys,
And maybe we'll butcher a fat little stray.

It's on through Nanango, that hard-bitten township,
Where the out-of-work station hands sit in the dust.
And the shearers get shorn by old Tim the contractor;
And I wouldn't go by there but I flaming well must.

Oh, the girls of Toomancy they look so entrancing,
Like waltzing young heifers they're looking for fun.
With the waltz and the polka and all kinds of dancing
To the old concertina of Henry Gunn.

So fill up your glasses and drink to the lasses,
We'll drink this town dry, then farewell to all.
But when we return again from Augathella
We'll always be willing to pay you a call.

(Chorus)

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