Click go the shears boys, click, click, click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied joe
Out on the board the old shearer stands
Grasping his shears in his thin bony hands;
Fixed is his eye on a bare-bellied joe
Glory if he gets her, won't he make the ringer go

Click go the shears boys, click, click, click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied joe
In the middle of the floor in his cane-bottomed chair
Sits the boss of the board with his eyes everywhere
Notes well each fleece as it comes to the screen
Paying strict attention that it's taken off clean

Click go the shears boys, click, click, click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied joe
The tar-boy is there waiting in demand
With his blackened tar-pot, in his tarry hand
Spies one old sheep with a cut upon its back
Hears what he's waiting for it's "Tar here, Jack!"
Click go the shears boys, click, click, click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied joe
The colonial experience man, he is there of course
With his shiny leggin's on, just got off his horse
Gazes all around him like a real connoisseur
Scented soap, and brilliantine and smelling like a whore

Click go the shears boys, click, click, click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied joe
Now the shearing is all over, we've all got our cheques
So roll up your swags and it's off down the track
The first pub we come to it's there we'll have a spree
And everyone that comes along it's "Have a drink with me."

Click go the shears boys, click, click, click
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied joe
There we leave him standing shouting for all hands
Whilst all around him every "shouter" stands
His eye is on the keg which now is lowering fast
He works hard, he drinks hard, and goes to hell at last!