When the Army Prays for Watty: H. Lawson / P. Roeterdink

From the pen of Henry Lawson this song examines with great delicacy the relationship between drinkers and the Salvation Army in a pub.   Lawson’s words virtually put the listener in a chair alongside Watty, the landlord of this outback hotel.

When the Army Prays for Watty

When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and stars

Hide the picture on the signboard over Doughty’s Horse Bazaar

When the last rose tint is fading on the distant mulga scrub

The Army pray for Watty at the entrance to his pub

Now I often sit at Watty’s when the night is very near

With a head that’s full of jingles and the fumes of bottled beer

For I always have a fancy that if I am over there

When the Army prays for Watty, I’m included in the prayer

Watty lounges in his arm chair, in its old accustomed place

With a fatherly expression on his round and passive face

And his arms are clasped before him in a calm contented way

And he nods his head and dozes when he hears the Army pray

And I wonder does he ponder on the distant years and dim

Or his chances over yonder when the Army prays for him?

Has he not a fear connected with that warm place down below

Where according to good Christians, all the publicans should go?

But his features give no token of a feeling in his breast

Save of peace that is unbroken and a conscience well at rest;

And we guzzle as we guzzled long  before the Army came

And the loafers wait for “shouters” and they get there just the same

It would take a lot of praying – lots of thumping on the drum-

To prepare our sinful, straying, erring souls for Kingdom Come

But I love my fellow sinners, and I hope upon the whole

That the Army gets a hearing when it prays for Watty’s soul