A bushman was thinking how a beer would be great

He’d worked very hard cutting sleepers a while

So that afternoon he set off with a smile.

As he drove down the road in the dust and the heat

He was humming a tune to the motor’s soft beat

Now just one more bean and over the rise

This bushman was in for a kind of surprise.

Now the old GP smiled as he strolled through the door

But his smile slowly died when the barman he saw

He said, ‘I’m sorry Old Mate you’ll be saddened to hear

We’ve got wine, we’re right out of beer.’

Now this kind of news would make most men sigh

But when this man heard it he bloody near cried

He could feel the heat and the dust and the sweat

One thought in his mind his throat just to wet.

With a draw on a fag and hat pushed well back

He scratched his wet brow and said, ‘Well that’s that.’

But the turn of events he’d noticed that day

It’s a cue for a song he thought right away.

So he headed right back to his camp by the stream

Where the timber grows tall and the water runs clean

In the peace of the bush it didn’t take long

With pencil and pad he wrote a great song…

by Nev Newman

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