Week in week out, I sat about in the big shed by the sea,
Looking for a master, who never looks for me;
I think of wife and kids at home, who need the dollars bad
But work and me are at enmity, tho’ I’m a willing lad.
My cobber, Joe, who’s not too slow, says, “Jack, twixt you and me,
In stead of wasting time and tears in the big shed by the sea
Betake yourself to the Empire Bar where the Wharf Bulls fraternise,
And buy the bosses pots of beer and big cigars likewise.
So to the Empire Bar I went, and there saw Foreman Jim
Surrounded by the ringers crowd, who were buying beer for him,
I butted in with might and main through the crowd to where he stood;
I spent ten shillings in a trice, but I made my marble good.
I shouted once, I shouted twice, I shouted long and loud
For Foreman Jim had hollow legs, and isn’t one bit proud;
Monopoles and Havanas, I stuck them in his gob,
Just because he promised me the first twelve-hour job.
Now I’m getting whip’s of work, and can hold up my head,
For every time I poke my nose into that pick-up shed
The boss roars out my name so loud he shakes the rafter beam;
My wife and kids are getting fat, instead of being lean.
So all you gentle wharfies, be guided now by me,
Instead of wasting time and tears in the big shed by the sea,
Betake yourselves with burnished books into the first hotel
And shout for all the bosses there, let the union go to hell
“Nuff Said” Direct Action May 29 1928
