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