I'm just a dusty cowhand,
A dusty, thirsty soul.
I used to keep my money
In a pocket with a hole.
I've got one ambition
Like wishing for the moon:
To drink a glass of pleasure,
Four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
At the Clover Saloon.
I was settin' there one evening'
And feelin' I was straight.
A fella called me somethin'
I particularly hate.
I threw a bottle at him,
But the feller ducked to soon.
That's how I lost my credit
At the Clover Saloon.
I'm just a dusty cowhand
And, brother, I am broke.
And, brother, I'm so thirsty
I'm goin' up in smoke.
I've got one ambition
Like wishing for the moon:
To drink a glass of pleasure,
Four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
At the Clover Saloon.
Threw the bottle at him
And missed him like I said.
I broke the bar-room mirror
And left it there for dead.
I shot him through the middle
To make him change his tune.
That's how I lost my credit
At the Clover Saloon.
I'm just a dusty cowhand
A-waitin' for the worst.
They're hangin' me tomorrow
In the middle of my thirst.
I've got one ambition
Like wishing for the moon:
To drink a glass of pleasure,
Four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
At the Clover Saloon.
