The Old Jimmy Woodser - Slim Dusty

The Old Jimmy Woodser - Slim Dusty
The old Jimmy Woodser comes into the bar
Unwelcomed unnoticed unknown
Too old and too odd to be drunk with by far;
So he glides to the end where the lunch baskets are
And they say that he tipples alone
And they say that he tipples alone
His frockcoat is green and the nap is no more
And his hat is not quite at its best;
He wears the peaked collar our grandfathers wore
The black-ribbon tie that was legal of yore
And the coat buttoned over his breast
And the coat buttoned over his breast
But I dreamed as he tasted his 'bitter' to-night
And the lights in the bar-room grew dim
That the shades of the friends of that other day's
Light
And of girls that were bright in our grandfathers”
Sight
Lifted shadowy glasses to him
Lifted shadowy glasses to him
Yes the old Jimmy Woodser comes into the bar
Unwelcomed unnoticed unknown
Too old and too odd to be drunk with by far;
So he glides to the end where the lunch baskets are
And they say that he tipples alone
(Instrumental)
Then I opened the door and the old man passed out
With his short shuffling step and bowed head;
And I sighed; for I felt as I turned me about
An odd sense of respect born of whisky no doubt
For a life that was fifty years dead
For a life that was fifty years dead
And I thought there are times when our memory trends
Through the future as 'twere on its own
That I out-of-date ere my pilgrimage ends
In a new-fashioned bar to dead loves and dead friends
Might drink like the old man alone
Might drink like the old man alone