Oh it's lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night we'll hear the wild dingoes call
But there's nothing so lonesome so morbid or drear
Than to stand in a 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
Now the publican's anxious, for the quote to come,
And theres a far away look, on the face to the 'bum';
The maids gone all cranky, and the cook's acting queer
What a terrible place, is a pub with no beer
Then the stockman rides up, with his dry dusty throat,
He breasts 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 swaggie 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 flamin' miles, to a pub with no beer"
Now there's a dog on the v'randa, for his master he waits,
But the boss is inside, drinking wine with his mates,
He hurries for cover, and he cringes in fear,
It's no place for a dog, 'round a pub with no beer
Old Billy the Blacksmith, the first time in his life
Has 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 pub's got no beer"
So it's lonesome away from your kindred and all,
By the campfire at night, we'll hear the wild dingoes call,
But there's nothing so lonesome,so morbid or drear,
Than to stand in a bar, of a pub with no beer.