Slim Dusty – The Brass Well (Guitar)

         C                                             G
'Tis the legend of the bushmen from the days of Cunningham,

                                                      C
When he opened up the country and the early squatters came.

                                                    G
Tis the old tale of a fortune missed by men who did seek,

                                                            C
And, perhaps, you haven't heard it, the Brass Well on Myall Creek.

          D                                                      A7
They were north of running rivers, they were south of Queensland rains,

                                                               D
And a blazing drought was scorching every grass-blade from the plains;

                                                              A7
So the stockmen drove the cattle to the range where there was grass,

                                                          D
And a couple sunk a well and found what they believed was brass.

             C                                                        G
'Here's some bloomin' brass!' they muttered when they found it in the clay,

                                                         C
And they thought no more about it and in time they went away;

                                                          G
But they heard of gold, and saw it, somewhere down by Inverell,

                                                                C
And they felt and weighed it, crying: 'Hell! we found it in the well!'

         C                                                   G
And they worked about the station and at times they took the track,

                                                   C
Always meaning to save money, always meaning to go back

                                                               G
'Always meanin',' like the bushmen, who go drifting round like wrecks,

                                                             C
And they'd get halfway to Myall, strike a pub and blow their cheques.

          D                                               A7
Then they told two more about it and those other two grew old,

                                                             D
And they never found the brass well and they never found the gold.

                                                               A7
For the scrub grows dense and quickly and, though many went to seek,

                                                       D
No one ever struck the lost track to the Well on Myall Creek.

        D                                         A7
And the story is forgotten and I'm sitting here, alas!

                                                   D
With a woeful load of trouble and a woeful lack of brass;

                                                         G
But I dream at times that I might find what many went to seek,

                           D                A7            D
That my luck might lead my footsteps to the Well on Myall Creek.

         D                                             A7
'Tis the legend of the bushmen from the days of Cunningham,

                                                      D
When he opened up the country and the early squatters came.

                                                    G
Tis the old tale of a fortune missed by men who did seek,

                          D                   A7            D
And, perhaps, you haven't heard it, The Brass Well on Myall Creek.

        G                 D                   A7            D       A7  D  G  D
And, perhaps, you haven't heard it, The Brass Well on Myall Creek.