Henry's Songbook

Chorus:
It's lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the campfire at night hear the lone dingos call
There's nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear
Than to stand at the bar of a pub with no beer

The swaggie walks in, wipes the sweat from his face
Goes up to the bar to his usual place
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer
When the barman informs him - The pub's got no beer

Young Billy the blacksmith, first time in his life
Has come home cold sober to his darling wife
She puts her head from the kitchen, You're early, my dear
He breaks down and sobs - The pub's got no beer

The dog at the doorway, for his master he waits
The boss is inside, sipping wine with his mates
He falls over his dog, puts his boot up its rear
It's no place for a dog - a pub with no beer

(as sung by Hamish Imlach)

[1960:] [We] feel that there is a need to correct some erroneous statements regarding the origin of A PUB WITHOUT BEER, a version of which became very popular a couple of years ago. The public were led to believe that the popular version was written by a Sydney singer. If it was, then it will be seen that it owes a lot to this ballad by Northern Queensland farmer, Dan Sheehan of Ingham. Note that it first appeared in THE NORTH QUEENSLAND REGISTER, January 1st, 1944, on page 22. It was part of a feature called ON THE TRACK by Bill Bowyang.

A PUB WITHOUT BEER
It is lonely away from your kindred and all
In the bushland at night when the warrigals call,
It is sad by the sea where the wild breakers boom,
Or to look on a grave and contemplate doom,
But there's nothing on earth half as lonely and drear
As to stand in the bar of a pub without beer
   Madam with her needles sits still by the door,
   The boss smokes in silence, he is joking no more,
   There's a faraway look on the face of the bum,
   While the barmaid looks down at the paint on her thumb,
   The cook has gone cranky and the yardman is queer,
   Oh, a terrible place is a pub without beer.
Once it stood by the wayside all stately and proud,
'Twas a home to the loafer a joy to the crowd,
Now all silent the rooftree that often times rang
When the navvys were paid and the cane cutters sang,
Some are sleeping their last in a land far from here.
Oh, a terrible place is a pub without beer.
   They can hang to their coupons for sugar and tea,
   And the shortage of sandshoes does not worry me,
   And though benzine and razors be both frozen stiff,
   What is wrong with the horse and the old fashioned ziff,
   'Mid the worries of war there's but one thing I fear,
   'Tis to stand in the bar of a pub without beer.
Oh, you brew of brown barley, what charm is shine,
'Neath thy spell men grow happy and cease to repine,
The cowards become brave and the weak become strong
The dour and the grumpy burst forth into song,
If there's aught to resemble high heaven down here,
'Tis the place of joy where they ladle out beer.

Ingham, 1944. Dan Sheehan (Singabout Vol. 4, Number 1, 1960 (also Singabout - Selected Reprints, ed. Bob Bolton, Bush Music Club, Sydney, 1985, p 66))

[1995:] Australian song which was a hit in the 1950s for Slim Dusty. In 1982 in Australia I heard three different versons - the best from Ted Egan. We had this bizarre idea that yodelling is used to locate places with beer in the Australian Desert and that dingos confuse everything because their howls sound like yodels to a thirst-crazed person. (Notes Hamish Imlach, 'More and Merrier')

Tune: Beautiful Dreamer