Out on the board the old shear-er stands, Grasp-ing his shears in his thin bony hands, Fixed is his gaze on a blue bellied joe, Glory if he gets her, won't he make the ringer go. Click go the shears, boys, Click, click, click! Wide is his blow and his hands move quick. The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow And curses the old snagger with the blue bellied joe. And curses the old snagger with the blue bellied joe.
