There's
a happy little valley
by the Umarella shore,
Where I've lingered many
happy hours away.
On my little free selection
I have acres by the score,
Where I unyoke the bul
lets from the tray.
To my bullets then I say,
no matter where you stray,
You'll never be impounded any more
For you're runnin', runnin', runnin'
On the duffest piece of land
Pre -selected by the Umarello shore
When the moon has
climbed the mountains
And the stars are shining bright
We'll saddle up our horses and away
And we'll yard the squatter's cattle
In the darkness of the night
And we'll have the carves
all branded by the day
Oh my pretty little car,
at the squatter you may laugh
He'll never be your owner any more
For you're running, running, running on
The toughest piece of land free
Selected by the Umerella store
If we find a mob of horses
When the paddock rails are down
Though before they were never
known to stray
When the moon is up
we'll drive them to some
distant inland town
And sell them into slavery far away
To Jack Robertson we'll say
we're on a better lay
We'll never go on any more
For it's easier duffin' cattle
on this little piece of land
Pre -selected by the Humorella Show