Oh it's-a lonesome away from your kindred and all

By the campfire at night we'll hear the wild dingoes call

But there's-a nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear

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 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



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 pub's 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 buffs are happy and I know they're sincere

When they say they don't care if the pub's got no beer



So it's-a lonesome away from your kindred and all

By the campfire at night we'll hear the wild dingoes call

But there's-a nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear-a