’Twas merry when the hut was full br Of jolly girls and fellows. br We danced and sang until we burst br The concertina’s bellows. br From distant Darling to the sea, br From the Downs to Riverina, br Has e’er a gum in all the west br Not heard the concertina? br br ’Twas peaceful round the campfire blaze, br The long white branches o’er us; br We’d play the tunes of bygone days, br To some good old bush chorus. br Old Erin’s harp may sweeter be, br The Scottish pipes blow keener; br But sing an old bush song for me br To the good old concertina. br br ’Twas cosy by the hut-fire bright br When the pint pot passed between us; br We drowned the voice of the stormy night br With the good old concertina’s. br Though trouble drifts along the years, br And the pangs of care grow keener, br My heart is gladdened when it hears br That good old concertina.