The Ringer(Brownie) Poem by keith brown

You got the ringer they call the gun

You got the ringer, they call the gun,
you got the snagger, he's the oldest one.
It's been years since he's been tally hi
too beat the gun you know he's gonna try.
He's sheared them with the blade,
the narrow and the wide.
Stood upon the board and made those pure white fleeces fly
He's the ringer rom the north: He leads at every run
The ringer from the north: The man they call the gun

The Rousies at the table, cut: roll: skirt and class
The snaggers shearing sheep like everyone's his last
The snaggers getting closer with every singleblow
he's gone tally hi, now the yoes are getting low
He's the ringer from the north: He leads at every run
The ringer from the north: The man they call the gun

The stands are getting full and the tally's close too tied
the ringers blowing hard on down the whipping side
He's the ringer from the north 
he leads at every run
will he beat the snagger when
He's the ringer from the north,
he leads at every run
The ringer from the north: The man they call the gun!