A tumbledown relic of days that gone
it dreams 'neath the light of the stars.
It is tentanted now by the owls and the bats
and they fly in and out through the door...

What tales it could tell if its walls had a tongue,
oh its lurind and larrikan past...

Oh but time is a tyrant and time travels fast,
and the old shanty stands in the shade,
and mourns for the men of that picturesque past...

(Lyrics from "The Ghost of Ben Hall"/Slim Dusty)