Oh it's a lonesome away
from your kindred and all
By the camp fire at night
we'll hear the wild dingos call
But there's a nothing so
lonesome, morbid or dreary
Than to stand in the
bar of a pub with no beer
Now the publican's anxious
for the quota to come
And there's a far away
look on the face of the bum
The maid's gone all cranky
and the cook's acting queer
Oh what a terrible place
is a pub with no beer
Then the stock man rides up
with his dry dusty throat
He pressed up to the bar
and pulls a wad from his coat
But the smile on his face
quickly turns to a sneer
As the barman says sadly,
"the pub's got no beer"
Then the Swaggy comes in
smothered in dust and flies
He throws down his roll and
rubs the sweat from his eyes
But when he is told he says
"What's this I hear
I've trudged fifty flaming miles
to a pub with no beer"
Now there's a dog on the
veranda,
for his master he waits
But the boss is inside
drinking wine with his mates
He hurries for cover
and he cringes with fear
It's no place for a dog
round a pub with no beer
And old Billy the blacksmith,
the first time in his life
Why he's gone home cold sober
to his darling wife
He walks in the kitchen,
she says "you're early Bill dear"
But then he breaks down
and tells her
"the pubs got no beer"
Oh it's hard to believe
that there's customers still
But the money's still tinkling
in the old ancient till
The wine dots are happy
and I know they're sincere
When they say they don't
care if the pubs got no beer
So it's a lonesome away
from your kindred and all
By the camp fire at night
we'll hear the wild dingos call
But there's a nothing so
lonesome, morbid or dreary
Than to stand in the bar
of that pub with no beer