When you're hunting in the mountains and your dog's put up a chase,
And a porker's coming at you and he doesn't like your face.
And you're running and he's running and he's pounding on the pace,
Well, don't worry mate, she'll be right.
She'll be right, mate, she'll be right.
Don't worry mate, she'll be right.
You can get your feed of pork when he slows down to a walk
So don't worry mate she'll be right.
When you're logging in the ranges and you're riding down the bluff,
With forty feet of timber riding right behind your chuff.
Your clutch has started slipping and your brakes are worse than rough.
Well, ...
She'll be right, mate, she'll be right.
Don't worry mate, she'll be right.
Just give her all you can give her, and she'll just fly into the river.
So don't worry mate she'll be right.
When they've finished off your forwards, and your backs are wearing thin,
The second half's near over and you're forty points to win,
And a hulking wing three quarter's got his teeth stuck in your shin
Well, ...
She'll be right, mate, she'll be right.
Don't worry mate, she'll be right.
You won't worry who's the loser when you meet them down the boozer.
So don't worry mate she'll be right.
When you're boiling up the copper and you're brewing up the hops
You've made a hundred dozen and you've hammered down the tops.
The missus comes and asks you where you've put your footy sox.
Well, ...
She'll be right, mate, she'll be right.
Don't worry mate, she'll be right.
Shove a shot of metho in, and you'll swear you're drinking gin.
So don't worry mate she'll be right.
