End Of The Pub-Slim Dusty

End Of The Pub (Live) (1996 - Remaster) - Slim Dusty Now in my moleskin trousers and my Williams boots Aboard an outlaw as he leaves the chutes In my goose neck spurs I rake their fiery hide And the girls all shouting around the ringside Oh he's the Feller from Cunnamulla Yeah he's the Cunnamulla Feller Now I've done a little fightin' in the western bars Done a little lovin' neath the moon and stars I wear bright clothes and shirts full of colour And the girls know me as that certain feller oh i'm the Feller from Cunnamulla oh i'm the Cunnamulla Feller Yes i'm the Cunnamulla Feller oh ,they call me Cunnamulla Feller Oh the dingoes are howling with the hiccups tonight, Out where the tall timbers wave, The swagmen are having a real old time jag Round the campfire they rant and they rave Stockmen and drovers and jackaroos too Are in town tonight for a spree The publican reckons they're suffered enough, So he's turning the beer on for free. The swaggy came in with a smile on his face And asked for a splash in the can. The boss shouted out to the barman at work "Fill up that jug for the man." He grabbed up the tankard and swallowed the lot And then put both hands to his side But he just couldn't take it The shock was too great, He fell on the floor there and died. Hey! Old billy the blacksmith is with us no more He's sleeping the sleep of the just, He hid in the cellar the day the beer came And went on a glorious bust. He drank a nine gallon 'twixt dark and the dawn And then staggered home to his wife. As he fell in the kitchen she picked up the gun And so ended the old feller's life. We laid him to rest where the stringybarks waved In the cemetry down by the creek And then rolled a few barrels down onto his grave And went on the binge for a week When the last keg was emptied We wrote on a cross for strangers to read as they passed, "Here lies the old blacksmith he died as he lived, Full as a boot to the last." Hey! Now in those dull days when the pub had no beer I started to save up my pelt. Now the beer's flowing freely I'm like all the rest Back in the doghouse myself. Oh the dogs round the pubs now are all sleek and fat They lollip around at their ease, Where all they once got was a kick in the ribs Some pubs now have planted them trees. Oh it's lonesome out there in the spare room at night And although I know it sounds queer, But I'd rather be there with my headaches and all Than a bar of a pub with no beer.