Lyrics Henry Lawson's Pen - Slim Dusty

Henry Lawson's Pen

Sometimes kind people comment on the ballads I have wrote,
Even though sometimes I sing them on a dry and battered note,
And they always place importance on what’s said not sung by men,
For quality’s not in the voice but in paper and the pen.
But this song is no great ballad with writing skill attached,
Oh it’s just a simple story that I hope your ears will catch,
Of the backgrounds of my ballads and the hours that I spend
In the bush or at the table with Henry Lawson’s pen.
One time when I was travelin' just kind of driftin' round,
I went through Lawson country, then on to Grenfell town,
The old mining town was quiet and their parklands thrived with grass.
And the place where this great man was born was marked by stone and brass.
So slowly we walked over, then through the iron gate,
Oh we read the masters name plate, the old monument looked great,
Then my old mate showed me something, in the grass a fountain pen,
Then jokingly he said to me «Hey Henry’s lost his pen?»
So I took some strangers' rusty pen Lord knows who dropped it there?
But I smile and like to think that it was placed with so much care,
And that maybe Lawson left it 'cause he knew I’d be there then,
So I truly try to follow suit with Henry Lawson’s pen.
So I like to thank those people that enjoy my old bush songs,
And I’ll try to keep them comin' if the good Lord keeps me strong,
So I’ll go back to my table and give it a go again,
Cause I love to sing those ballads born from Henry Lawson’s pen.
Hey!
But this song is no great ballad with writing skill attached,
Oh it’s just a simple story that I hope your ears will
catch,
Of the backgroundsof my ballads and the hours that I spend