- Lyrics
- Album list
- Singer Intro
Slim Dusty( David Gordon Kirkpatrick )
-
Clara Waters
I was drivin' out through Mitchell Heard a lonesome railroad whistle So I stopped beside the highway for a spell And in this pleasant place Was a notice well displayed With a story I am now about to tell The notice was a roll of those who'd paid the toll While working on the railroad to the west Wives and workers perished With the children that they cherished And in lonely graves were gently laid to rest Then I found my vision misted As among the many listed The name of Clara Waters caught my eye I imagined my own daughter In the place of Clara waters While the busy highway traffic hurtled by How short her life had been She was only seventeen Yet her story may be very simply told A doctor might have saved her From the fever after labour Her baby died when he was four days old Then the scene before me shifted As back in time I drifted As back in time a hundred years I went And through my muddled dreaming A morning sun came beaming On a battered billy steaming by a tent For here was pretty Clara With her husband there to share a Simple meal before their daily task I am anxious now to meet her So I hurry on to greet her With the questions that I feel I have to ask And when the day is breaking Is there happiness in waking Have you had your share of laughter joy and cheer You were very young to marry And the baby that you carry Does it make you wish your mother could be near Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com In the coolness of the morning In the piccaninnie dawning Does your husband tell you often of his love While the magpies merry singing In the higher branches ringing Is bringing morning greetings from above Does the gentle evening breeze Wave the smoke up through the trees Do you see the shafts of sunlight drifting down Or has drudgery and duty Made you blind to every beauty While the camp is turning dusty bare and brown (spoken) With a bed of planks and sacking And with every comfort lacking Growing heavy as your time is drawing near In your shabby tent so dreary Are you very often weary And do you sometimes shed a silent lonely tear (sung) And when her son was born On a hot December morn And the deadly fever started on its quest Was there time for her to hold him And in her love enfold him Was there time to give him comfort at her breast Of course there's no replying To my questions and my prying And suddenly I know it's time to go But I reckon I'll remember What happened that December In the summertime a hundred years ago And then a road train passes There's a ripple through the grasses As if to wave a fleeting sad goodbye To Clara and her son Their lives so briefly run And the busy highway traffic rushes by
-
Top Comments
|