Dribbler Bill - Slim Dusty

I see him still ole Dribbler Bill, his frame as hard as gidgee

He drove the mail on Bridal Tracks in country soft & rigid

Never had too much to say but when he did was just a drawl

And ya' kinda got the feelin', he’d be handy in a brawl

His Leyland truck was like ole Bill, gusty, rough and slow

He took that truck through country where a dozer wouldn’t go

Yeah, but he’s been bogged down tyre deep, back in Coober Hole

When others turned their trucks around and headed back for home

Now old Bill would do those little things for bush folk far from town

Had a memory like Sir Sydney, never wrote the items down

Newspapers he would put inside, mailbox on the ridge

And every stop along the way, had somethin' for the kids

He was seen to be a lonely man like one deprived of luck

An outward sign did only make was that old Leyland truck

He’d caress that smooth ole steerin' wheel, ease along the track

The last words that I heard him say was, «See ya later Jack.»

Instrumental

Now the mail still serves the far outback, the jobs they handle fine

But mem’ries dwell on Dribbler Bill way back in '39

I remember every mail night, the excitement and the thrill

As we sat outside and waited for the likes of Dribbler Bill

Oh, there’s many times he helped us out when tucker got real slack

Like fresh meat from the bullocks secured from somewhere up the track

Yeah, great old man was Dribbler Bill the kind who’d always stick

And he’d risk his life without a thought for the needy and the sick.

Hey!

Now I’d like to think that Dribbler Bill still has the wheel in hand

Pushin' that old Leyland truck throughout that channel land

Should there be no trucks in heaven, it’s a halo to a pup

Just give old Bill a day or two and he’ll start a mail run up

Spoken Yeah so long Bill