He was eased up into the saddle and rode out his early years with the sound of a blacksmiths anvil always ringing in his ears
and the gossip spoke of the big smoke there a million miles away and Ross the Ringer from Casino who went there to earn his pay.
So Ross came down from the crossing place where the Richmond River flows and landed in the Southern Highlands open minded I suppose.
Although he knows lightening never strikes where the thunderbolts hide out Ross always keeps lookout just in case a storm might be about.
He is the ringer from Casino with a whip crack in the sky he musters up wild horses like plucking wings of a butterfly .
The ringer from Casino has an innocence you canít deny .
They all call him Ross the boss and there is no evil in his eye
Sure enough early comes the morning when the whistles wet at night,
one eye open and the other closed, up and at them she'll be right, the ringer keeps chasing after his dreams and making future plans,
he takes it all within his stride holding the reins in both his hands.