Biography

...Blimey...

It’s lonesome away, from your kindred and all By the campfire at night, where the wild dingoes call But theres nothing so lonesome, so morbid or drear Than to stand in a bar, of a pub with no beer

Now the publicans anxious, for the quota to come Theres a faraway look, on the face of the bum The maids gone all cranky & the cooks acting queer What a terrible place, is a pub with no beer

Then 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 has face, quickly turns to a sneer When the barman said sadly, the pubs got no beer

Theres a dog on the v'randah, for his master he waits But the boss is inside, drinking wine with his mates He hurries for cover, and cringes with fear Its no place for a dog, round a pub with no beer

Old billy the blacksmith, first time in his life Has gone home cold sober, to his darling wife He walks in the kitchen, she says your early my dear But he breaks down and tells her, the pubs got no beer

It’s lonesome away, from your kindred and all By the campfire at night, where the wild dingoes call But theres nothing so lonesome, so morbid or drear Than to stand in a bar, of a pub with no beer

...I'm Tlouey, btw

and I guess you can also find me here: http://www.side7.com/art/tlouey/gallery.html on Side7.... blink