The Bar’s Got No Beer !
It’s a lonesome away
From the Osborne and all...
Amidst the dust and dirt,
There’s a place called Mount Dore...
But now there’s a rumour,
It’s the worst think to hear...
That the place will be closing,
And they’ll be serving no beer...
Now T’s Plant Hire are anxious,
When will this day come...
As it looks like they might have to,
Drink all the rum...
The contractor's are cranky,
And Cooks acting queer...
Oh what a terrible place,
Is this bar with no beer...
Then some miners rock up,
With their dry dusty throats....
They lean up to the bar,
With some ten dollar notes...
But their smiles on their faces,
Quickly turn to a sneer...
As the barmaid says sadly,
This bar’s got no beer...
Then a driller comes in,
Smothered in dust and flies...
He throws down hard hat,
Then rubs the grease from his eyes...
But when he is told,
He says “What this I hear”
“I’ve walked a hundred flamin metres,
To a bar with no beer...
Now there’s an Enviro on the verandah,
For a free shout he waits...
As the Managers are inside,
Drinking wine with their mates...
He hurries for cover,
And cringes in fear...
It’s no place for a Enviro,
Around a bar with no beer...
And a silly young Field Tech,
The first time in his life...
Has gone back home cold sober,
To ring up his wife...
Another walks in the kitchen,
With eyes full of tears...
Have you got some rum essence,
Cause the bar’s run out of beers...
It’s hard to believe
That we’ve all had our fill...
And it isn’t real funny,
I feel like a dill...
None of us are happy,
For the first time this year...
We can’t comprehend it,
That the bar’s got no beer...
So it’s lonesome away,
From the Osborne and all...
Amidst the dust and dirt,
There’s a place called Mount Dore...
And now the rumour is true,
It’s the worst think to hear...
That the place will closing,
And they’ll be serving no beer……
Len Newey 2014