Song of the Artesian Water

Now the stock have started dying, for the Lord has sent a drought; / But we're sick of prayers and Providence -- we're going to do without; / With the derricks up above us and the solid earth below, / We are waiting at the lever for the word to let her go. / Sinking down, deeper down, / Oh, we'll sink it deeper down: / As the drill is plugging downward at a thousand feet of level, / If the Lord won't send us water, oh, we'll get it from the devil; / Yes, we'll get it from the devil deeper down.

Now, our engine's built in Glasgow by a very canny Scot, / And he marked it twenty horse-power, but he don't know what is what: / When Canadian Bill is firing with the sun-dried gidgee logs, / She can equal thirty horses and a score or so of dogs. / Sinking down, deeper down, / Oh, we're going deeper down: / If we fail to get the water then it's ruin to the squatter, / For the drought is on the station and the weather's growing hotter, / But we're bound to get the water deeper down.