The Old Saddle

I went back to the place where I worked as a lad Just happened to be passing that way I saw a few fellers there with a young horse I walked up and just said G'Day They said they'd heard of me but only by name In stories passed down through the years How I could break in a tough one and hang on a rough one I said don't believe all you hear The I took a stroll over to the old saddle shed And there on a peg on the wall I saw the same saddle I'd used years ago More years than I care to recall Oh I knew it was mine but I had to make sure I lifted the flap up to see Two initials I'd carved with an old pocket knife Just a plain old P and a D Had the same monkey straps that I plaited by hand On a wet day with little to do A worn saddle bag a quartpot and case They were still hanging there too That old saddle I said to the young feller in charge He said I don't think you'll find its much good But he looked at me straight said you can have it old mate I reckon that he understood Yes take it old timer he said with a grin Cause I reckon its yours anyway I found your initials carved under the flap I said you'd be back here one day Now it hangs in office all polished and new And the stirrup irons sparkle and shine And if put to test would be good as the best And I'm happy to say that its mine Now I have a small grandson he's only a boy And if by chance he turns out a rover I'll take it down and just hand it over.