Connie Converse
The Clover Saloon
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, full measure
Bulging out and brimming over at The Clover Saloon

I was sitting there one evening
And feelin' I was straight
A feller called me something I par-tic-ul-arly hate
I threw a bottle at him
But the feller ducked too 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 going up in smoke!
I've got one ambition
Like wishing for the moon
To drink a glass of pleasure, full measure
Bulging out and brimming 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-waiting for the worst
They're hanging me tomorrow
In the middle of my thirst
I've got one ambition, like wishing for the moon:
To drink a glass of pleasure, full measure
Bulging out and brimming over
At The Clover Saloon