The Man from Ironbark by Andrew Barton Paterson

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It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town, / He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down. / He loitered here, he loitered there, till he was like to drop, / Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop. / ''Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark, / I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark.'

The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are, / He wore a strike-your-fancy sash, he smoked a huge cigar: / He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee, / He laid the odds and kept a 'tote', whatever that may be, / And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered 'Here's a lark! / Just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark.'

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