A Pub With No Beer

D                       E7
Oh it's lonesome away from your 
kindred and all
       A7                          
By the campfire at night where the 
            D
wild dingos call
But there's nothin' so lonesome, so 
E7
dull or so drear
        A7                       
Than to stand in the bar of a pub 
         D
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

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The stockman rides up with his dry, 
dusty throat
He breasts up to 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!"

Then in comes the swagman, all 
covered with flies
He throws down his roll, wipes 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!"

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, Bill dear"
Then he breaks down and he tells her
 that the pub's got no beer

So it's lonesome away from your 
kindred 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