The truth it's in my song so clear
Without a word of gammon
The swagman travels all the year
Waiting for the lambin'
When this dirty work is done
To the nearest shanty steering
They meet a friend, their money spend
Then jog along 'til shearing

Home sweet home
That is what they left it for
Their home sweet home

Now when the shearing season comes
They hear the price that's going
New arrivals meet old chums
And then they start their blowing
They say theat they can shear each day
Their hundred pretty handy
But eighty sheep is bloody hard
If the wool is close and sandy

Home sweet home
That is what they left it for
Their home sweet home

Now when the sheds are all cut out
They get their bit of paper
Off to the nearest pub they run
To cut a dashing caper
They call for liquor plenty
And they're happy when they're drinking
But where they'll go when the money's done
It's little they'll be thinking

Home sweet home
That is what they left it for
Their home sweet home

It's sick and sore next morning
They are when they awaken
To have another drink, they must
To keep their nerves from shakin'
They call for one and then for two
In a way that's rather funny
'Til the landlord says "Now this won't do
You men have got no money"

Home sweet home
That is what they left it for
Their home sweet home

They're leaning on verandah posts
And lounging on the sofas
Then for to finish off their spree
They're ordered off as loafers
They've got no friends, their money's gone
And at their disappeaing
They give three cheers for the river bend
Then jog along 'til shearing

Home sweet home
That is what they left it for
Their home sweet home