As cobbas we woz dinkum ‘n’ true blue
We stuck t’gever like nuffin’ on earf
We’d roam thru the dry mallee scrubland
An’ we’d play in the Murray’s sweet dirt.

The rest of th’ kids thort we woz bonkers
But always seem’d t’ wanna be near
We’d clime up th’ red limestone rock face
Where th’ Murray ‘ad worn th’ cliffs sheer

We’d build wurleys on th’ banks of th’ riva
An’ ev’n sum times out in th’ scrub
An’ ofen Jacky’s fam’ly wou’d ask us
To stay ‘n’ cop some ov their grub.

Y’see, Jacky, me mate, woz a abbo
An’ a ridgy didge, fair dinkum bloke
‘Coz when yu ony seen eight birfdays
Don’ much matta if y’u th’ culler o’ coke.

Jacky’s clan ‘n’ ‘is kif ‘n’ ‘is kin foke
Assept’d me like wun ov their own
Tho’ me skin woz 's pink as a earfworm
They al’ays made me feel rite at ‘ome.

Jacky ‘n’ me woz grate mates
‘Til I bluddy grew up ‘n’ left ‘ome
Then th’ white peepl wiv skin jus’ like mine
Tol’ me, “Don’t throw the abbo no bone!”