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

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