Horse Feed
I’d been droving for some months now in the harsh drought ridden outback.
Through the stations of East South Australia and along Strzlecki’s track.
By the time I reached a town (which had the name of Lyndhurst)
I was ready for a proper feed and I had this raging thirst.
Two days the world stopped spinning below the bar room ceiling light,
I never took the time to figure out what was day or night,
as long as the pluto’s pouring into that ten once pot,
I felt the need to drink the pub dry and I gave it my best shot.
What really happened I’m not sure; me mind’s flat as a tack,
I don’t know how me shirt got torn or why me eye is black,
but I do know now the time has come to ride off where I will.
I said to the bloke behind the bar “I want to settle up me bill.”
The barman gave a subtle grin and shook his balding head
“You’ve had a great time ain’t yer; not only with the beer and bed,
but it’s costing you two hundred for the billiard cloth and broken cues,
and a hundred for the ‘dunny’ door; replacing hinges, latch, and screws.
plus another fifty on yer tab for the dart holes in the wall.
I don’t think a hundreds quite enough to clean the carpet in the hall.
Two hundred quid for eats and drinks; a hundred for the room you shared” …
“A room I shared!” What’s that about?” “Ya, fifty for me” a German tourist
‘sheila’ said.
We looked at the cheque across the bar which would cover all me debt.
“If I did all that it’s fair enough.” The barman frowned “I haven’t finished yet.
I fed your horse while you played up; two ‘bucks’ I’ve charged you for the
hay.”
‘Strewth!’ I thought ‘that flamin’ horse - is ‘gunna’ send me broke one day.’
Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2022
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