Clara Waters Chords by Slim Dusty
Tempo:
89.45 bpm
Chords used:
A
E
B
D
F#
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[A] I was driving out through Mitchell, heard a lonesome railroad whistle, so I stopped beside the highway for [E] a spell.
And in this pleasant lay was a notice well displayed with a story I am now [A] about to tell.
[C#m] [D] The notice was the role of those who'd paid the toll while working on the railroad [A] to the west.
[E] Wives and workers perished with the children that they cherished, and in lonely graves were gently [A] laid to rest.
Then I [D] found my vision missed, as among the many lists, the name of Clara Waters [A] caught my eye.
[E] I imagined my own daughter [G] in [E] the place of Clara Waters while the busy [Bm] highway [A] traffic hurtled by.
[D] [E]
[A] How short her life had been, she was only seventeen, yet her story may be very [C#] simply [E] told.
[A] [E] A doctor might have saved [B] her [E] from the fever after labor, her baby died when he was four [A] days old.
[D] Then the scene before me shifted, as back in time I drifted, as back in time a hundred years [A] I went.
[E] And through my muddled dreaming, a morning sun came beaming on a battered billy steaming by [A] a pen.
[D] For here was pretty Clara, with her husband there to share a simple meal before their [A] daily tasks.
[E] I'm anxious now to meet her, so I hurry on to greet her with the questions that I feel I have [A] to ask.
[B]
And when the day is breaking, is there happiness in waking?
Have you had your share of laughter, joy [F#] and cheer?
You are very young to marry, and the baby that you carry, does it make you wish your mother could [B] be near?
[E] In the coolness of the morn, in the pick and any dawning, does your husband tell you often of [B] his love?
[F#] While the magpies merry singing, in the higher branches ringing, is bringing morning greetings [B] from above.
[E] Does the gentle evening breeze, wave the smoke up through the trees?
Do you see the shafts of sunlight [B] drifting down?
Or [F#] has drudgery and duty, made you blind to every beauty, while the camp is turning dusty, [B] pale and brown?
[E] [A] With a bed of planks and sacking, [D] and with every comfort lacking, [E] growing heavy as your time [A] is roaring near,
in your shabby tent so dreary, [D] oh are you very often weary?
[E] And do you sometimes shed a silent [A] lonely tear?
[B]
And when her son was born, on a hot December morn, and the deadly fever started on [F#] its quest,
was there time for her to hold him, and in her loving fold him, was there time to give [C#m] him [B] comfort at her breast?
[E] Of course there's no reply, to my questions and my pride, and suddenly I know it's [B] time to go.
But [F#] I reckon I'll remember, what happened that December, in the [C#m] summertime [D#m] a hundred years [B] ago.
[A] And then a road train passes, there's a ripple through the grasses, as if to wave a fleeting sad [E] goodbye,
to Clara and her son, their lives so briefly run, and the busy highway traffic rushes [A] by.
[D] [A]
And in this pleasant lay was a notice well displayed with a story I am now [A] about to tell.
[C#m] [D] The notice was the role of those who'd paid the toll while working on the railroad [A] to the west.
[E] Wives and workers perished with the children that they cherished, and in lonely graves were gently [A] laid to rest.
Then I [D] found my vision missed, as among the many lists, the name of Clara Waters [A] caught my eye.
[E] I imagined my own daughter [G] in [E] the place of Clara Waters while the busy [Bm] highway [A] traffic hurtled by.
[D] [E]
[A] How short her life had been, she was only seventeen, yet her story may be very [C#] simply [E] told.
[A] [E] A doctor might have saved [B] her [E] from the fever after labor, her baby died when he was four [A] days old.
[D] Then the scene before me shifted, as back in time I drifted, as back in time a hundred years [A] I went.
[E] And through my muddled dreaming, a morning sun came beaming on a battered billy steaming by [A] a pen.
[D] For here was pretty Clara, with her husband there to share a simple meal before their [A] daily tasks.
[E] I'm anxious now to meet her, so I hurry on to greet her with the questions that I feel I have [A] to ask.
[B]
And when the day is breaking, is there happiness in waking?
Have you had your share of laughter, joy [F#] and cheer?
You are very young to marry, and the baby that you carry, does it make you wish your mother could [B] be near?
[E] In the coolness of the morn, in the pick and any dawning, does your husband tell you often of [B] his love?
[F#] While the magpies merry singing, in the higher branches ringing, is bringing morning greetings [B] from above.
[E] Does the gentle evening breeze, wave the smoke up through the trees?
Do you see the shafts of sunlight [B] drifting down?
Or [F#] has drudgery and duty, made you blind to every beauty, while the camp is turning dusty, [B] pale and brown?
[E] [A] With a bed of planks and sacking, [D] and with every comfort lacking, [E] growing heavy as your time [A] is roaring near,
in your shabby tent so dreary, [D] oh are you very often weary?
[E] And do you sometimes shed a silent [A] lonely tear?
[B]
And when her son was born, on a hot December morn, and the deadly fever started on [F#] its quest,
was there time for her to hold him, and in her loving fold him, was there time to give [C#m] him [B] comfort at her breast?
[E] Of course there's no reply, to my questions and my pride, and suddenly I know it's [B] time to go.
But [F#] I reckon I'll remember, what happened that December, in the [C#m] summertime [D#m] a hundred years [B] ago.
[A] And then a road train passes, there's a ripple through the grasses, as if to wave a fleeting sad [E] goodbye,
to Clara and her son, their lives so briefly run, and the busy highway traffic rushes [A] by.
[D] [A]
Key:
A
E
B
D
F#
A
E
B
[A] _ _ _ I was driving out through Mitchell, heard a lonesome railroad whistle, so I stopped beside the highway for [E] a spell.
_ _ And in this pleasant lay was a notice well displayed with a story I am now [A] about to tell.
_ _ [C#m] [D] The notice was the role of those who'd paid the toll while working on the railroad [A] to the west.
_ _ [E] Wives and workers perished with the children that they cherished, and in lonely graves were gently [A] laid to rest.
_ Then I [D] found my vision missed, as among the many lists, the name of Clara Waters [A] caught my eye.
_ [E] I imagined my own daughter [G] in [E] the place of Clara Waters while the busy [Bm] highway [A] traffic hurtled by.
_ _ _ [D] _ _ [E] _
_ [A] _ _ How short her life had been, she was only seventeen, yet her story may be very [C#] simply [E] told.
_ [A] [E] A doctor might have saved [B] her [E] from the fever after labor, her baby died when he was four [A] days old.
_ [D] Then the scene before me shifted, as back in time I drifted, as back in time a hundred years [A] I went.
_ _ [E] And through my muddled dreaming, a morning sun came beaming on a battered billy steaming by [A] a pen.
_ _ [D] For here was pretty Clara, with her husband there to share a simple meal before their [A] daily tasks.
_ [E] I'm anxious now to meet her, so I hurry on to greet her with the questions that I feel I have [A] to ask.
_ _ _ [B] _ _ _
And when the day is breaking, is there happiness in waking?
Have you had your share of laughter, joy [F#] and cheer? _
You are very young to marry, and the baby that you carry, does it make you wish your mother could [B] be near? _
[E] In the coolness of the morn, in the pick and any dawning, does your husband tell you often of [B] his love? _ _
[F#] While the magpies merry singing, in the higher branches ringing, is bringing morning greetings [B] from above. _
[E] Does the gentle evening breeze, wave the smoke up through the trees?
Do you see the shafts of sunlight [B] drifting down?
Or [F#] has drudgery and duty, made you blind to every beauty, while the camp is turning dusty, [B] pale and brown? _
[E] _ [A] _ _ _ With a bed of planks and sacking, [D] and with every comfort lacking, [E] growing heavy as your time [A] is roaring near,
_ in your shabby tent so dreary, [D] oh are you very often weary?
[E] And do you sometimes shed a silent [A] lonely tear?
_ _ [B] _ _ _
And when her son was born, on a hot December morn, and the deadly fever started on [F#] its quest, _
was there time for her to hold him, and in her loving fold him, was there time to give [C#m] him [B] comfort at her breast? _ _
[E] Of course there's no reply, to my questions and my pride, and suddenly I know it's [B] time to go. _
But [F#] I reckon I'll remember, what happened that December, in the [C#m] summertime [D#m] a hundred years [B] ago. _ _
_ [A] _ _ _ And then a road train passes, there's a ripple through the grasses, as if to wave a fleeting sad [E] goodbye,
_ _ to Clara and her son, their lives so briefly run, and the busy highway traffic rushes [A] by.
[D] _ _ [A] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ And in this pleasant lay was a notice well displayed with a story I am now [A] about to tell.
_ _ [C#m] [D] The notice was the role of those who'd paid the toll while working on the railroad [A] to the west.
_ _ [E] Wives and workers perished with the children that they cherished, and in lonely graves were gently [A] laid to rest.
_ Then I [D] found my vision missed, as among the many lists, the name of Clara Waters [A] caught my eye.
_ [E] I imagined my own daughter [G] in [E] the place of Clara Waters while the busy [Bm] highway [A] traffic hurtled by.
_ _ _ [D] _ _ [E] _
_ [A] _ _ How short her life had been, she was only seventeen, yet her story may be very [C#] simply [E] told.
_ [A] [E] A doctor might have saved [B] her [E] from the fever after labor, her baby died when he was four [A] days old.
_ [D] Then the scene before me shifted, as back in time I drifted, as back in time a hundred years [A] I went.
_ _ [E] And through my muddled dreaming, a morning sun came beaming on a battered billy steaming by [A] a pen.
_ _ [D] For here was pretty Clara, with her husband there to share a simple meal before their [A] daily tasks.
_ [E] I'm anxious now to meet her, so I hurry on to greet her with the questions that I feel I have [A] to ask.
_ _ _ [B] _ _ _
And when the day is breaking, is there happiness in waking?
Have you had your share of laughter, joy [F#] and cheer? _
You are very young to marry, and the baby that you carry, does it make you wish your mother could [B] be near? _
[E] In the coolness of the morn, in the pick and any dawning, does your husband tell you often of [B] his love? _ _
[F#] While the magpies merry singing, in the higher branches ringing, is bringing morning greetings [B] from above. _
[E] Does the gentle evening breeze, wave the smoke up through the trees?
Do you see the shafts of sunlight [B] drifting down?
Or [F#] has drudgery and duty, made you blind to every beauty, while the camp is turning dusty, [B] pale and brown? _
[E] _ [A] _ _ _ With a bed of planks and sacking, [D] and with every comfort lacking, [E] growing heavy as your time [A] is roaring near,
_ in your shabby tent so dreary, [D] oh are you very often weary?
[E] And do you sometimes shed a silent [A] lonely tear?
_ _ [B] _ _ _
And when her son was born, on a hot December morn, and the deadly fever started on [F#] its quest, _
was there time for her to hold him, and in her loving fold him, was there time to give [C#m] him [B] comfort at her breast? _ _
[E] Of course there's no reply, to my questions and my pride, and suddenly I know it's [B] time to go. _
But [F#] I reckon I'll remember, what happened that December, in the [C#m] summertime [D#m] a hundred years [B] ago. _ _
_ [A] _ _ _ And then a road train passes, there's a ripple through the grasses, as if to wave a fleeting sad [E] goodbye,
_ _ to Clara and her son, their lives so briefly run, and the busy highway traffic rushes [A] by.
[D] _ _ [A] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _