C	C	G7	G7
If you	stand on Lampton	Quay, on	Friday night then	you will see

	C	C
Through	rain and snow the	trampers go

	G7	C
To the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
A-	way, a-way, with	billy and pack a	rollicking down the	mountain track

	C	C
We'll	all get lost and	never come back

	G7	C
In the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
	Hear them holler and	hear them bawl as	up the Marchant	Ridge they crawl

	C	C
And	all they see is	nothing at all

	G7	C
In the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
	Into a hut we	go to sup, a	dirty plate, a	greasy cup

	C	C
The	girls will have to	smarten up

	G7	C
In the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
The	secretary can't	read or write, she	eats all day and	drinks all night

	C	C
And	if she could she'd	ride a bike

	G7	C
In the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
The	President is	old and grey, they	say he's ninety-	nine today

	C	C
He	reached that age by	staying away

	G7	C
From the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
The	treasurer went	on the bash, and	drank up all the	petty cash

	C	C
And	now he's got big	rocks to smash

	G7	C
In the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
The	chief guide's getting	old and grey, he's	lost the track three	times today

	C	C
He'll	never find it	anyway

	G7	C
In the	Tararua	Ranges

	C	C	G7	G7
So	if you're under	ninety-three, and	find your life a	misery

	C	C
You'd	better come along	with me

	G7	C
To the	Tararua	Ranges