Slim Dusty The Old Saddle
I went back to the place where I worked as a lad
Just happened to be passing that way
I saw a few fellers there with a young horse
I walked up and just said G’Day
They said they’d heard of me but only by name
In stories passed down through the years
How I could break in a tough one and hang on a rough
one
I said don’t believe all you hear
The I took a stroll over to the old saddle shed
And there on a peg on the wall
I saw the same saddle I’d used years ago
More years than I care to recall
Oh I knew it was mine but I had to make sure
I lifted the flap up to see
Two initials I’d carved with an old pocket knife
Just a plain old P and a D
Had the same monkey straps that I plaited by hand
On a wet day with little to do
A worn saddle bag a quartpot and case
They were still hanging there too
That old saddle I said to the young feller in charge
He said I don’t think you’ll find its much good
But he looked at me straight said you can have it old
mate
I reckon that he understood
Yes take it old timer he said with a grin
Cause I reckon its yours anyway
I found your initials carved under the flap
I said you’d be back here one day
Now it hangs in office all polished and new
And the stirrup irons sparkle and shine
And if put to test would be good as the best
And I’m happy to say that its mine
Now I have a small grandson he’s only a boy
And if by chance he turns out a rover
I’ll take it down and just hand it over.
