A Pub With No Beer

It's lonesome away from your kindered and all

By the campfire at night where the wild Dingos call

But there's nothin' so lonesome, so dull or so drear

Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer

Now the Publican's anxious for the quota to come

There's a faraway look on the face of the bum

The maid's gone all cranky and the cook's acting queer

What a terrible place is a pub with no beer

The stock man rides up with his dry, dusty throat

He breasts up till the bar, pulls a wad from his coat

But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer

When the barman says suddenly, "The pub's got no beer"

There's a dog on the verandah, 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, me dear"

Then he breaks down and he tells her that the pub's got no beer

It's lonesome away from your kindered and all

By the campfire at night where the wild Dingos call

But there's nothin' so lonesome, so dull or so drear

Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer

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written by Parsons, Gordon Noel

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing