ent000449-059

^CJ CLICK GO THE SHEARS Out on the board the old shearer stands. Graspin1 his shears In his thin boney hands. Fixed is his gaze on the "fonTse-bellie'd yo. Glory if he gets her, won't he make the ringer go. CHORUS: Well, it's click go the shears, boys Click, click, click. Wide is his bow as his hands move quick. The ringer looks around and he's beaten by a bo 5* N- *- \ \ ?·- **-" and curses the old s=a^ge-r with his fea^e bellied yo. In the middle of the floor, in his cane-bottom chair sits the boss of the board with his eyes everywhere. He notes well each fleece as it comes to the screen. Payin' strict attention if it's taken off clean. (CONTINUED)