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Slim Dusty
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King of Kalgoorlie
One night I was strollin' the time seemed to drag
I paused for a drink from the bronze water bag
That old Paddy Hannan holds out all the while
And I'll swear that he slipped me a wink and a smile
Born on the breeze came the throb of the mines
And up in the city the mid nightly chimes
And the ghosts of the past and Paddy and I
Delved in the realms of the days long gone by
From all the world over adventurers came
To gamble their lives on the Nullarbor plain
They'd fight and they'd laugh they'd love and they'd live
And they'd die as they saw what the earth had to give
For how many times has the story been told
On the fields they all knew there are two kinds of gold
There's the gold that men die for and struggle and strive
And the gold we call water that keeps men alive
We can only imagine their perils and fears
The hardships the heartaches their triumphs and tears
Dame fortune was fickle while many she spurned
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She smiled upon others, some never returned.
Today, there are younger strong hands at the reins
But the gallant old prospector always remains
He's there in the sunset the trees and the dust
His spirit is ours in his land our trust
Oh, he's there sure enough in the big school of mines
In the books in the children those brave little vines
For the soul does not die as it passes the years
And what braver men than the old pioneers
So, old Paddy Hannan sits there on his throne
And dreams of the past and the days he had known
The clothes that he wears are not much for style
But who cares for that on the old golden mile.
Yes old Paddy Hannan in sunshine or rain
Dwells in the street which carries his name
His majesty watches out there all alone
The King of Kalgoorlie on his street corner throne.
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