The Bushman’s Lament
On a warm summer’s day in the north of the state
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
Mudgee Valley Writers
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