This is the poem written by Jack Moses.
I’ve done my share of shearing sheep,
Of droving and all that,
And bogged a bullock team as well,
On a Murrumbidgee Flat.
I’ve seen the bullock stretch and strain,
And blink his bleary eye,
And the Dog sat on the tucker box,
Nine Miles from Gunadagai.
I’ve been jilted, jarred and crossed in love,
And sand-bagged in the dark
Till if a mountain fell on me,
I’d treat it as a lark.
It’s when you get your bullocks bogged,
That’s the time you flog and cry.
And the dog sits on the tucker box
Nine Miles from Gunadagai.
We’ve all got out little troubles,
In life’s hard stony way.
Some strike them in a motor car,
And others in a dray.
But when your dog and bullocks strike,
It ain’t no apple pie,
And the dog sits on a tucker box
Nine Miles from Gunadagai.
But that’s all past and dead and gone,
And I’ve sold the term for meat,
And perhaps some day where I was bogged,
There’ll be an asphalt street.
The dog? Ah, well, he got a bait,
And thought he’d like to die,
So we buried him in the tucker box
Nine Miles from Gunadagi.

love it
That’s good