The Clover Saloon Songtext
von Connie Converse

I′m just a dusty cowhand,
A dusty, thirsty soul.
I used to keep my money
In a pocket with a hole.

I've got one ambition
Like wishing for the moon:
To drink a glass of pleasure,
Four-measure, bulgin′ out and brimmin' over
At the Clover Saloon.

I was settin' there one evening′
And feelin′ I was straight.
A fella called me somethin'
I particularly hate.

I threw a bottle at him,
But the feller ducked to soon.
That′s how I lost my credit
At the Clover Saloon.


I'm just a dusty cowhand
And, brother, I am broke.
And, brother, I′m so thirsty
I'm goin′ up in smoke.

I've got one ambition
Like wishing for the moon:
To drink a glass of pleasure,
Four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin′ over
At the Clover Saloon.

Threw the bottle at him
And missed him like I said.
I broke the bar-room mirror
And left it there for dead.

I shot him through the middle
To make him change his tune.
That′s how I lost my credit
At the Clover Saloon.

I'm just a dusty cowhand
A-waitin′ for the worst.
They're hangin′ me tomorrow
In the middle of my thirst.


I've got one ambition
Like wishing for the moon:
To drink a glass of pleasure,
Four-measure, bulgin′ out and brimmin' over
At the Clover Saloon.