Alright, here's quite a long story....so you'll have to calm down and have a listen. This is the story...can you hear me? This is the story of Barry 'The Bear' Kable, not the legendary Australian football player, but the legendary Sydney painter and docker. When Barry was nine years old, his dad went down the pub and was told by his mates that his wife was having an affair. So, he went back home, and he got a knife, and while Barry was sitting on his mum's lap, he cut off her head. And he put in a bag, and went down to the pub, and showed it around-just to prove he wasn't a man to be trifled with. When Barry grew up, he got into all kinds of bother, he was accused of shooting two people in a pub in Fitzroy, one of 'em was a ten year old kid called Nicholas. But he got off because the eye witness refused to testify. Later on he tried his hand at being a standover man, he ended up being tied to a chair in Piermont in Sydney, and being beaten by axe handles. These guys dumped him outside the Royal Sydney Hospital-left him for dead. But he survived, had metal plates in his head and he spent the last few years of his life wandering around Darlinghurst in Sydney, and that's where Billy over here met him. And everyday, he'd sit outside the post office in Crown Street, and he'd walk across five lanes of one way traffic to the Gaslight Hotel, got himself a bottle of port, back across the traffic, sit down and drink it. When he finished it, he'd go and get another one. And every afternoon, Billy'd have to put him in a van and take him to one of the hostels they got there in Sydney for alcoholics. This is the Legend of Barry Kable........he was a mate of Billy's.
It was Barry's dad that committed the deed That mapped out the life young Barry would lead Eagle on his chest, he'd roar at the wilderness 'till the stars came out in his own head Now he waits at the post office for delivery Walks down to the Talbot just in time for tea At least at the hostel, they won't steal your steaks My name is Barry and I brought my own plate Well he'd ride with me, spit on me, take me on in Crown street He crossed that road like a river
Painter and Docker, piss-head boxer But a Rose of Australia was mad Barry Dog in the moonlight, gentleman when he was right He just dropped dead in the bottle shop of the Gaslight Well he'd ride with me, spit on me, take me on in Crown street He crossed that road like a river
I met Barry's boy driving him to Mc Kinnon He confessed to me he'd been doin' it hard Looked like his dad, only braver Well I might have helped him if I could just give the drink away Well he'd ride with me, spit on me, take me on in Crown street He crossed that road like a river
Well he'd ride with me, spit on me, take me on in Crown street He crossed that road like a river Like a river Like a river He crossed that road like a river