So Long, Old Mates - Slim Dusty

Where are the mates I used to have?

I wonder where they are?

Some still wander and some made good

And others traveled far.

Some have gathered their gear and gone

To a better land or worse;

Their load was heavy, the passing years

Is the weight that oldsters curse.

When we were young and the world was wide

And the longest day not hard,

We would joke our way from dawn to dark,

Through the mob in the branding yard.

One I remember when I was there,

Who helped me in early years,

When I was the butt of the stockrail jokes,

He taught me to take the jeers.

In life he didn’t amount to much,

He came from further out.

He was only a lanky coloured lad,

A station rouse about.

Oh, I’ve thanked him often in after life,

For the things he taught me then,

He guided my youth through the stockman’s life

In the hard, tough world of men.

Although he didn’t amount to much,

All that he had, he gave.

He was white enough and man enough

To rest in a soldier’s grave.

Forgotten by most of the ones he knew

And those of his tribal tree;

The world forgetting, the world forgot

Except by mates like me.

So long, old mate from early days

Wherever you may be.

May the grass be green and the water good,

From care may your days be free.

I’ve traveled a span of the road of life

And I’ve learned to understand,

Through mate-ship the way it was meant to be,

Has no colour, creed nor land.

Contributed: Marten Busstra 2009]