Текст песни Clancy Of The Overflow - Slim Dusty
I
had
written
him
a
letter
which
I
had,
for
want
of
better
Knowledge,
sent
to
where
I
met
him
down
the
Lachlan,
years
ago,
He
was
shearing
when
I
knew
him,
so
I
sent
the
letter
to
him,
Just
'on
spec',
addressed
as
follows,
'Clancy,
of
The
Overflow'.
And
an
answer
came
directed
in
a
writing
unexpected,
(And
I
think
the
same
was
written
with
a
thumb-nail
dipped
in
tar)
'Twas
his
shearing
mate
who
wrote
it,
and
verbatim
I
will
quote
it:
'Clancy's
gone
to
Queensland
droving,
and
we
don't
know
where
he
are.'
In
my
wild
erratic
fancy
visions
come
to
me
of
Clancy
Gone
a-droving
'down
the
Cooper'
where
the
Western
drovers
go;
As
the
stock
are
slowly
stringing,
Clancy
rides
behind
them
singing,
For
the
drover's
life
has
pleasures
that
the
townsfolk
never
know.
And
the
bush
hath
friends
to
meet
him,
and
their
kindly
voices
greet
him
In
the
murmur
of
the
breezes
and
the
river
on
its
bars,
And
he
sees
the
vision
splendid
of
the
sunlit
plains
extended,
And
at
night
the
wond'rous
glory
of
the
everlasting
stars.
I
am
sitting
in
my
dingy
little
office,
where
a
stingy
Ray
of
sunlight
struggles
feebly
down
between
the
houses
tall,
And
the
foetid
air
and
gritty
of
the
dusty,
dirty
city
Through
the
open
window
floating,
spreads
its
foulness
over
all
And
in
place
of
lowing
cattle,
I
can
hear
the
fiendish
rattle
Of
the
tramways
and
the
'buses
making
hurry
down
the
street,
And
the
language
uninviting
of
the
gutter
children
fighting,
Comes
fitfully
and
faintly
through
the
ceaseless
tramp
of
feet.
And
the
hurrying
people
daunt
me,
and
their
pallid
faces
haunt
me
As
they
shoulder
one
another
in
their
rush
and
nervous
haste,
With
their
eager
eyes
and
greedy,
and
their
stunted
forms
and
weedy,
For
townsfolk
have
no
time
to
grow,
they
have
no
time
to
waste.
And
I
somehow
rather
fancy
that
I'd
like
to
change
with
Clancy,
Like
to
take
a
turn
at
droving
where
the
seasons
come
and
go,
While
he
faced
the
round
eternal
of
the
cash-book
and
the
journal
--
But
I
doubt
he'd
suit
the
office,
Clancy,
of
'The
Overflow'.
In
my
wild
erratic
fancy
visions
come
to
me
of
Clancy
Gone
a-droving
'down
the
Cooper'
where
the
Western
drovers
go;
As
the
stock
are
slowly
stringing,
Clancy
rides
behind
them
singing,
For
the
drover's
life
has
pleasures
that
the
townsfolk
never
know.
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