Those Men from Byron Park - Inspired from the Poem - The Man from Ironbark by Banjo Paterson...
It was those men from Bryon Park,
Who headed into town,
They stumbled through guinea grass,
They staggered up and down
They squatted here they squatted there,
They a had no time to stop...
Until in last sheer despair,
They sought a bottle shop...
Hey we’re in need of beer to scoff,
We’re not no men to bark...
We've got to have a drink old mate,
We’re down from Byron Park...
The barman was tall and brash,
As barman mostly are...
He swore and asked me for cash,
As he leaned against the bar...
He grabbed me by the throat,
And started threatening me...
He wanted payment in any note,
Whatever it may be...
And then he saw my friend arrive,
He whispered another bloody lark...
Just how do you all survive,
You men from Byron Park...
Then in come some reckless youths,
They spewed behind the barman’s wall...
Their eyes were dull their hair was flat,
Their names I can’t recall...
Just then the barman starts to think,
He wished this bar was shut...
So instead I'll make these Yobo's drink,
And I’ll fill their bloody guts...
And as he poured the beers out,
He made a rude remark...
I suppose those bloke’s can really drink,
Down there in Byron Park...
A grunt was all the reply he got,
Then they gave a stupid grin...
Then he served them that beer so hot,
It was a mortal sin...
They raised their glasses and threw them back,
Their stomachs began to bloat...
One nearly had a heart attack,
Most were gasping from their throat...
Upon their young and supple skin,
The beer had made its mark...
No doubt this barman had sucked them in,
Those men from Byron Park...
They coo-eed and started all to yell,
Now everyone would hear...
The beer it made their stomachs swell,
They were full from ear to ear...
They struggled to get to their feet,
Red faced and all a glow...
You've done us in we’re nearly beat,
No more we’ve got to go...
We only wish to leave this strife,
You’ve really left your mark...
But you'll remember all of us,
The men from Byron Park...
They lifted up their hairy arms,
With one tremendous shout...
They jumped upon the bar,
And knocked the barman out....
The barman lost a tooth,
He was a bloody wreck...
Then he grabbed the eldest youth,
And tried to wring his neck...
And all the time their stomachs they held,
While wrestling in the dark...
Murder Bloody Murder....
Yelled those men from Byron Park...
A policeman who wandered in,
Came in and seen the show...
He tried to run those Yobo's in,
But they refused to go...
And when at last that barman spoke,
He said it was all in fun...
It was just a little harmless joke,
A wee bit overdone...
A joke he cried well I think that’s fine,
But there’s still a question mark...
Don’t let me catch you drinking again tonight,
Down there in Byron Park...
And now and then behind those doors,
The Yobo's stand agape...
They tell the story over and over,
And brag of their escape....
That barman chap just likes a paper note,
No cash and it gets a little rough...
Otherwise he’ll try and burn your throat,
But thank god we’re really tough...
And whether he's friend or foe,
There's one thing to remark,
Ice cold beers are all the go,
Down here at Byron Park...
Len Newey 2013 - Inspired by Banjo Patterson's Man From Iron Bark !