A Pub With No Beer

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Oh it's lonesome away from your kindred and all   
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By the campfire at night where the wild dingos call   
                                    E7  
But there's nothin' so lonesome, so dull or so drear   
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Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer 
  
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Now the publican's anxious for the quota to come 
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There's a faraway look on the face of the bum   
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The maid's gone all cranky and the cook's acting queer  
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What a terrible place is a pub with no beer   

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The stockman rides up with his dry, dusty throat  
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He breasts up to the bar, pulls a wad from his coat 
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But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer 
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When the barman says suddenly: "The pub's got no beer!" 
 
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Then in comes the swagman, all covered with flies
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He throws down his roll, wipes the sweat from his eyes 
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But when he is told he says, "What's this I hear?   
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I've trudged fifty flamin' miles to a pub with no beer!"  
  
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There's a dog on the verandah, for his master he waits 
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But the boss is inside drinking wine with his mates
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He hurries for cover and he cringes in fear   
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It's no place for a dog round a pub with no beer   

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Old Billy, the blacksmith, the first time in his life
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Has gone home cold sober to his darling wife
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He walks in the kitchen; she says: "You're early, Bill dear"
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Then he breaks down and he tells her that the pub's got no beer  
 
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So it's lonesome away from your kindred and all 
        A7                                D   
By the campfire at night where the wild dingos call 
                                    E7    
But there's nothin' so lonesome, so dull or so drear 
        A7                                D   
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer