Phyl Lobl




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A Tasmanian paddock woman called Pixie showed independence and a joy of life. The story of her life was a joy to share. Pontiac and Kennebec are two of the potato crops she helped harvest. She demonstrated the action which supplied the words and metre for the chorus.


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Words & Music: Phyl Lobl

I've worked the paddocks of Pontiac and Kennebec,
Mile after mile of humble old spud,
In frost and in dust I've worked 'cause I must,
As a fine paddock woman I go.

Flickin' and puttin' and walkin',
Flickin' and puttin' and walkin' all day,
Head down arse up, keepin' the pace,
Makin' a quid savin' my face,
Flickin a'nd walkin' all day

Might have been teacher, gone wandering or been a nurse,
Might have seen service under the cross,
I married instead, now my man's an invalid,
Out in the paddocks I go.

With the wind in my hair and a bite in the southern air,
Jumper wrapped round me protectin' my back,
There's a kind of a pride that I feel side by side,
When with fine paddock's women I go.

Six hours for six ton the best time I've ever done,
Went hell for leather, fair flew down the row,
Fired by the sight of those hot summer onions,
And the fine paddock's women who go.

There's one disadvantage for fine paddock women,
The trees are so sparse, and they don't give a Loo,
You can alter your gait but the bladder won't wait,
So in the fine paddock's women you go.



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