 The outside track, by Henry Lawson, read for Libbybox.org by Algypug. There were ten of us there, on the moonlight key, and one on the forehead-atch. No straighter mate to his mates than he had ever said, Lends a match. It will be long, old man, ere our glasses clink, it will be long ere we grip your hand, and we dragged him ashore for a final drink, till a whole wide world seemed grand. But they marry and go as the world rolls back, they marry and vanish and die, for their spirit shall live on the outside track, as long as the years go by. The portlights glowed in the morning mist that rolled from the waters green, and over the railing we grasped his fist as the dark tide came between. We cheered the captain, and cheered the crew, and our mate, times out of mind. We cheered the land he was going to, and the land he had left behind. We roared length-sign as a last farewell, but my heart seemed out of joint. I will remember the hush that fell when the steamer had passed the point. We drifted home through the public bars, we were ten times less by one, who sailed out under the morning stars, and under the rising sun. And one by one, and two by two, they have sailed from the wharf since then. I have said goodbye to the last I knew, the last of the careless men, and I can't but think that the times we had were the best times after all, as I turned aside with a lonely glass, and drank to the bar room wall. But I'll try my luck for a check out back, then a last goodbye to the bush, for my heart's away on the outside track, on the track of the steerage push. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. THE OUTSIDE TRACK by Henry Lawson, read for LibriVox.org by Bruce Kechuk. There were ten of us there on the moonlit key, and one on the ford hatch. No straighter mate to his mates than he had ever said, Lends a match. To be long, old man, ere our glasses clink, To be long ere we grip your hand. And we dragged him ashore for a final drink, till the whole wide world seemed grand. Before they marry and go as the world rolls back, They marry and vanish and die. But their spirit shall live on the outside track, As long as the years go by. The port lights glowed in the morning mist That rolled from the water's green. And over the railing we grasped his fist As the dark tide came between. We cheered the captain, and cheered the crew, And our mate times out of mind. We cheered the land he was going to, And the land he had left behind. We roared Langsine as a last farewell, But my heart seemed out of joint. I well remember the hush that fell When the steamer had passed the point. We drifted home through the public bars, And were ten times less by one, Who sailed out under the morning stars, And under the rising sun. And one by one, and two by two, They have sailed from the wharf since then. I have said goodbye to the last I knew, The last of the careless men. And I can't but think that the times we had Were the best times, after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass And drink to the bar room wall. But I'll try my luck for a check out back Then a last goodbye to the bush, For my heart's away on the outside track, On the track of the steerage push. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Outside Track by Henry Lawson, Read for LibriVox.org by Craig Franklin. There were ten of us there on the moonlit key, And one on the forehead-hatch. No straighter mate to his mates than he Had ever said, Lins, a match, To be long, old man, ere our glasses clink, To be long ere we grip your hand. And we dragged him ashore for a final drink, Till the whole wide world seemed grand. For they marry and go as the world rolls back, They marry and vanish and die. But they spiritual live on the outside track As long as the years go by. The port lights glowed in the morning mist That rolled from the water's green, And over the railing we grasped his fist As the dark tide came between. We cheered the captain and cheered the crew, And our mate, times out of mind, We cheered the land he was going to And the land he had left behind. We roared land-zine as a last farewell, But my heart seemed out of joint. I will remember the hush that fell When the steamer had passed the point. We drifted home through the public bars We were ten times less by one Who sailed out under the morning stars And under the rising sun. And one by one and two by two They've sailed from the wharf since then. I have said goodbye till the last I knew, The last of the careless men. And I can't but think that the times we had Were the best times after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass And drink to the bar room wall. But I'll try my luck for a check-out back, Then a last goodbye to the bush, For my heart's away on the outside track, On the track of the steerage push. The outside track of Henry Lawson, Rev. Libbervox.org, by Chad Horner from Ballyclair, In County Andrew, Northern Ireland, Situated in the northeast of the province of Ulster. There were ten of us there on the moon-less quay, And one on the forward hatch. No straighter mate to his mates than he Had ever said, Lens a match, We'll be long, old man, where our glasses clink, We'll be long ere we grip your hand, And we dragged him ashore for our final drink, So the whole wide world seemed grand, But they marry and go as the world rocks back, They marry and vanish and die, But their spirits shall live on the outside track, As long as they years go by, The port lights glued in the morning mist That rolled from the waterscreen, And over the railing we grasped his fist, As the dark tide came between, We cheered the captain and cheered the crew, And our mate, times out of mind, We cheered the land he was going to, And the land he had left behind, We roared, lying, sin, as a last farewell, But my heart seemed out of joint, And I well remember the hush that fell When the steamer had passed the point, We drifted home through the public bars, We were ten times less by one, We sailed out under the morning stars And under the rising sun, And one by one and two by two, They assailed from the wharf since then, I have said goodbye to the last I knew, The last of the careless man, And I can't but think that of the times we had, With the best after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass And drink to the bar room wall, But I'll try my luck or a check out back, Then a last goodbye to the bush, Whore at my heart's away on the outside track, In the track of the steerage push, And the poem is recording as in the public domain. The Outside Track by Henry Lawson, Read for LibriVox.org by Cornel Nemes in Reno, Nevada. There were ten of us there on the moonlit key, And one on the forward hatch, No straighter mate to his mates than he had ever said, Lends a match. Twill be long, old man, Air our glasses clink, Twill be long, ere we grip your hand, And we dragged him ashore for a final drink, Till the whole wide world seemed grand, Or they marry and go as the world rolls back, They marry and vanish and die, But their spirit shall live on the outside Track as long as the years go by, The port lights glowed in the morning mist That rolled from the water's green, And over the railing we dressed his fist As the dark tide came between, We cheered the captain and cheered the crew, And our mate times out of mind, We cheered the land he was going to And the land he had left behind, We roared Lang's sign as a last farewell. But my heart seemed out of joint, I well remember the hush that fell When the steamer had passed the point we drifted home Through the public bars. We were ten times less by one Who sailed out under the morning stars And under the rising sun, And one by one, and two by two, They have sailed from the wharf since then. I have said goodbye to the last, I knew, The last of the careless men, And I can't but think that the times we had were the best times after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass and drink to the bar room wall. But I'll try my luck for a check out back, Then a last goodbye to the bush For my heart's away on the outside track, On the track of the steerage, End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Outside Track by Henry Lawson, read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist. There were ten of us there on the moonlit key, And one on the Ford hatch, No straighter mate to his mates than he had ever said, Lends a match. It will be long, old man, Air our glasses clink, It will be long as we grip your hand, And we dragged him ashore for a final drink, Till the whole wide world seemed grand. For they marry and go as the world rolls back, They marry and vanish and die, But their spirit shall live on the outside track, As long as the years go by. The port lights glowed in the morning mist That rolled from the waters green, And over the railing we grasped his fist, As the dark tide came between. We cheered the captain and cheered the crew And our mate, times out of mind. We cheered the land he was going to, And the land he had left behind. We roared Langsine as a last farewell, But my heart seemed out of joint. I well remember the hush that fell When the steamer had passed the point. We drifted home through the public bars. We were ten times less by one, Who sailed out under the morning stars, And under the rising sun. And one by one and two by two, They have sailed from the wharf since then. I have said goodbye to the last I knew, The last of the careless men. And I can't but think that the times we had Were the best times after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass And drink to the bar room wall. But I'll try my luck for a check out back, Then a last goodbye to the bush, From my hearts away on the outside track, On the track of the steerage push. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. The Outside Track by Henry Lawson Read for LibriVox.org by Graham Scott Cheltenham, England GrahamScottAudio.com There were ten of us there on the moonlit key, And one on the ford hatch. No straighter mate to his mates than he had ever said lends a match. To be long, old man, ere our glasses clink, To be long ere we grip your hand. And we dragged him ashore for a final drink Till the whole wide world seemed grand. For they marry and go as the world rolls back, They marry and vanish and die, But their spirit shall live on the outside track As long as the years go by. The port lights glowed in the morning mist That rolled from the water's green, And over the railing we grasped his fist As the dark tide came between. We cheered the captain and cheered the crew And our mate times out of mind, We cheered the land he was going to And the land he had left behind. We roared langzine as a last farewell, But my heart seemed out of joint. I well remember the hush that fell When the steamer had passed the point. We drifted home through the public bars We were ten times less by one Who sailed out under the morning stars And under the rising sun. And one by one and two by two They have sailed from the wharf since then. I have said good-bye to the last I knew, The last of the careless men. And I can't but think that the times we had Were the best times, after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass And drink to the bar room wall. But I'll try my luck for a check-out back Then a last good-bye to the bush, For my heart's away on the outside track, On the track of the steerage push. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Outside Track by Henry Lawson Red for LibriVox.org by Lurie Wilson There were ten of us there on the moonlit quay, And one on the Ford hatch. No straighter mate to his mates than he had ever said. Lins a match. It will be long, old man, ere our glasses clink. It will be long ere we grip your hand. And we dragged him ashore for a final drink To the whole wide world seemed grand. For they marry and go as the world rolls back, They marry and vanish and die. But their spirits shall live on the outside track As long as the years go by. The port lights glowed in the morning mist That rolled from the waters green, And over the railing we grasped his fist As the dark tide came between. We cheered the captain and cheered the crew, And our mate, times out of mind, We cheered the land he was going to, And the land he had left behind. We roared lang-zine as a last farewell, But my heart seemed out of joint. I well remember the hush that fell When the steamer had passed the point. We drifted home through the public bars. We were ten times less by one. We sailed out under the morning stars And under the rising sun. And one by one and two by two They have sailed from the wharf since then. I have said good-bye to the last I knew, The last of the careless men. And I can't but think that the times we had Were the best times after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass And drink to the bar-room wall. But I'll try my luck for a check out back, Then I'll ask good-bye to the bush, For my heart's away on the outside track On the track of the steerage push. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. You'll be longer we grip your hand, And we drag him ashore for a final drink, Till the whole wide world seemed grand. For they marry and go as the world rolls back, They marry and vanish and die, But their spirits shall live on the outside track As long as the years go by. The port lights glowed in the morning mist That rolled from the waters green, And over the railing we grasped his fist, As the dark tide came between. We cheered the captain and cheered the crew, And our mate, times out of mind, We cheered the land he was going to, And the land he had left behind. We a road-line sign as the last farewell, Where my heart seemed out of joint. I well remember the hushed of fell, When the streamer had passed the point. We drifted home through the public bars. We were ten times less by one. We sailed out under the morning stars, And under the rising sun. And one by one and two by two, They have sailed from the hearse since then. I have said goodbye to the last I knew, The last of the careless men. And I can't but think that the times we had, Were the best times after all, As I turn aside with a lonely glass, And drink to the bottom wall. But I try my luck for a check out back, Then the last goodbye to the bush, Where my heart's away on the outside track, On the track of the steerage push. End of poem. This recording is in a public domain.