E/Em                  
Woke me up this morning 
                       E7
Feeling stiff and sore
         A7/Am
Ah, the boss gets us up so early
                         E
Start work at half past four (in the morning!)
            B7
I've been crutching sheep for four days now
              A7/Am                     E
Still got to crutch four thousand sheep more
             B7
Ch.I've got green stains all over my shoes
                A7      B7        E
   I've got the wet dag crutching blues


Well I've got to drive the sheep in
Pack them into the catching pens tight
Oh those old ewes get stubborn 
All day I have to shove and fight
Don't come into my bed little mama
I'm too tired to make love tonight

And now I dive into the catching pen
I throw a sheep down on the floor
And I drag it to the swearing stand
I grab for my handpiece once more
My Sunbeam slides through the wool and the dags
Oh God my back gets so sore

Then I have to sort the dags out
Before the wool goes into the press
It's a	stinking slimy dung-heap
Oh, it's a green-black rattling mess
Old Geof will have to shout us a dozen or more
To get rid of our sore distress..

Am
I get up in the morning, get out my bed
   G
O Lord,  I've got to earn my daily bread
      Am
So I grab me some breakfast, climb into my ute
   E                                         Am
- Down to the paddock I shoot........ to my tractor.


There she stands by the side of the field
Seven ton of rubber and diesel and steel
Seven tons'f muscle, hear that engine roar
You can get three hundred horsepower, maybe even more.....
....from my tractor.

Chorus
F
Oo - ee, oo - ar
 C
I've got to drive my tractor so far
 F
Round and round 'til it numbs my brain
G
Oh Lord!  Don't make it rain
            Am
....... today.


Into the ground goes my eight furrow plough
And the soil turns black, seven acres an hour
There's a thousand seagulls in a screeching cloud 
Scratching for worms, while I sit tall and proud ....
...... on my tractor.

In Rongatea, loam; in Opiki clay
Grinding through rocks up Colyton way
In the sand at Sanson, and out at Bulls too
Yes I've ploughed up half of the Manawatu.....
......in my tractor.
Chorus

We disk and we harrow and sow in the grain
An' now is the time you start praying for rain
To make the crop green and to make it grow tall
At last I can stop......
...... and overhaul my tractor.

Oo - ee, oo - ar
I dont have to drive my tractor, no more
Round and round 'til it numbs my brain
Oh Lord, please make it rain
....... today.

C
My name's Sam and I'm a shunter;
        Am
Out at Milson I work wonders
      F                C             G
As I shuffle rakes of wagons to and fro
     C
But lately it's been tragic,
       Am
For despite computer magic
       F                    G7                  C
Those goods won't go where goods-trains used to go!

Chorus;
              F                              C   
For they're closing all the country sidings down
  G                                   C F C
Tearing all the tracks out from the ground
      F
What am I going to do?
    C                   Am
To get these postholes through?
               D7              G7              C
Since they're closing all the country sidings down:

"Here's five hundred prefab postholes,
For a Mangaweka farmer,"
I wrote on some empty wagons in the yard.
"But they've built the deviation,
And closed old 'Weka station,
So we took them to Taihape," said the guard.

I sent postholes through the gorge,
To a fencer at Oringi,
But a phone call came from Dannevirke to say:
"Well, your wagons have arrived,
But we can't find a thing inside!
You'd better make a claim for postholes right away!"

So I thought I'd try again,
With some holes to Bonny Glen,
But they only got as far as Marton Yards,
Where they sent them on by road,
A whole truck and trailer load,
Now I've got to pay the double handling charge.
Chorus 

Then a cocky back of Westmere
Said "Me postholes never got here"
Others turned up cracked and broken: clogged with sand.
That's why from Newman to Okoia
And up back of Mangahuia,
They've gone back to digging postholes out by hand.
Chorus 

(spoken)Ladies and gentlemen,
Here's to the girl who delivers our mail.
Here's to BARB-WIRE ANNIE.

G                                  D7 
There was mud on your oilskins and battered felt hat
                                G
As you rode by at dawn on your way down Hale's Track
                       C
Forty miles there and forty miles back.
      D7                   G
Hard ride for Bill and for Annie

        D7                         G
You've brought us our letters, newspapers, so much
        A7                       D7
With a yarn at the gate you have kept us in touch
          G                     C
When you rode by today on your way to the church
         D7                   G
We all sung out "Good on yer, Annie."

CHORUS
     D7                       C          G
 So here's to the girl who delivers our mail,
	 D7                 G
 Here's to Barb-wire Annie.
             D7
 Though the track's deep in mud,
 
 Though the river's in flood
      D7                      G
 You can't stop our Barb-wire Annie

Now the Ridge Road in winter is wet greasy clay
There's mud three feet deep where young Bert bogged the dray
And at the Blue Cliff the whole road slips away
But you can't stop our Barb-wire Annie.

When that new barb-wire fencing they've put up all round
Stops you from reaching the high harder ground
You just pull out your pliers and 'wang!' go the wires.
You can't stop our Barb-wire Annie

Chorus

And your saddle-bag is marked proudly, 'Royal Mail'
But today it protected your lace bridal veil
That graced you in style as you walked up the aisle.
God bless you, Barb-wire Annie.

Chorus (instrumental or 'la-la la') 

And I must thank the cooks, we've had more than enough
Of your wild pork and pumpkin, your trifle, plum duff.
But now put the sponge cakes and cream puffs aside
And all charge your glasses, a toast to the bride.
To our dear Annie Gibson, you'd not be denied
Good health to Barb-wire Annie.

A                                                D                    A
We were building a mai-mai down at the lake when old Jack speared an eel
       D                   A                    B7               E7
So we lit a fire and with number eight wire,we grilled it for a meal
     A                              D              A
But when the season opened, in our mai-mai all concealed
    D             A                   E7             A
We waited in the chilly dawn, and forgot those slimy eels.

CHORUS
     E7                                 A
With razor teeth they wait beneath the lake-side water weed
     E7                                 A
With razor teeth they wait beneath the lake-side water weed.

Old Jack brought down a duck nearby but his gun-dog stayed at heel,
She'd not go fetching from that lake, she'd seen a big black eel.
So Jack stripped all his clobber off, "Real mean are made of steel"
Jumped in the lake with nothing on, in with that old man eel.

He waded waist-deep through the reeds, then lurched and sort of squealed
The water writhed, he clutched himself "Damn yellow-bellied eel!"
We poured good whisky on his wound, his pain we all could feel
AndI buckled up my belt real tight to keep away that eel.

The ladies phoned his missus; "Oh poor Jack, how does he feel?
Has the doctor fixed his ... 'accident' ... y'know, with the eel?"
Said she, "Jack's sort of ringbarked but still has his sex appeal
But he's bought a ton of gelignite to blast the lake.for eels

Sugra the juggler, come down from the mountain
Sugra the juggler, come down to our park
Sugra the juggler, knee-deep in our fountain
Juggling up rainbows from morning to dark.

He was riding along on his red unicycle
When a traffic-cop stopped him with flashing red light.
So he started to juggle right there on the roadway
And the cop burst out laughing "Hey, mate, you're all right."

His hat fi11s with money, though he's not a busker
"You can give what y'want to, or take what y'need"
He's here to show how he keeps his life in balance
As he follows life's rhythms, and lives without greed.

Last night in a dream, I was standing by Sugra,
being splashed by the waves on a cold rocky shore. 
The balls started changing, all rearranging, 
To a mountain, a lake and a green forest floor.

Ruapehu's erupting with molten red lava
A tree-fern's unfolding new leaves to the sun:
And a boy leads the old man to bathe in Lake Taupo
One life nearly ending, one life just begun.

Yes - the boy leads the old man to bathe in Lake Taupo
One cycle un-ending, one song always sung;
One cycle un-ending, one song always sung.

Tracy I lived at Mangamahu helping Dad upon our land 
   He said I'd be a farmer's wife and couldn't understand
   Why I'd waste time in his workshop with a spanner in my hand
   Or go talking to that Fletcher pilot-O

Women in audience High in the hills where the wild winds blow
                  Talking to that Fletcher pilot-O

Bill I was flying off the river flat two hundred tons to sow
   High country all around me and m'Fletcher climbing slow
   As I banked across the valley I could see that girl below
   And I need another loader-driver-O  

Men in audience  High in the hills where the wild winds blow
	         I need another loader-driver-O

   Optional - leave out these two if you want a shorter song. 
Tracy This kitchen is a prison but that Fletcher pilot's free 
   When he banks  above our farmhouse Bill dips a wing to me
   When he leaves our farm tomorrow in in his plane I want to be
   I'll go working with that Fletcher pilot-O. High in the hills etc        


Bill She asked me for a job so I said "Hop in the back
   If you can drive a loader up a muddy hillfarm track
   If you can fix a fuel pump and the long hours you can hack
        Sure, you can be my loader driver-O,"  High in the hills...

Tracy  I've got grease upon my overalls, the dry dust burns my skin
   But I've driven up that farm track, dug super from the bin
   And I've got the loader waiting as Bill brings his Fletcher in
         I'm working as a loader driver-O,  High in the hills...
        
Bill In the cockpit close together we're flying back to base,
   An oilpipe burst this morning, but you got it replaced
   Since you've been working with me I feel much more at peace
        You're not bad as a loader driver-O,  High in the hills...
        
Tracy And now I drive the office desk, I'm manager you see
   And then Bill brings me roses........ says he wants to marry me
   He's kind and brave and handsome, with that you must agree
        He's more than just a Fletcher pilot-O,  High in the hills...

Both of them Golden summer lunch-hour lying underneath the wing 
   Your arms are close about me love, I give you everything
   . . . my love! . . and in the stillness. . . I hear a bellbird sing
        How I love my (Fletcher pilot-O/ loader driver-O)
        
All of audience High in the hills where a warm wind flows
        How I love my (Fletcher pilot-O/ loader driver-O)