Ballad Of Henry Lawson

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 backgrounds of my ballads and the hours that I spend