The Clover Saloon

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.