| Oh I wandered into Tamworth from a station in the scrub
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| And settled on a bar-stool down in Joe Maguire’s pub
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| From the moment that I walked in there and bought myself a beer
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| I felt at ease and welcome in a friendly atmosphere
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| Oh the bar is plain and simple there’s no tiles or polished brass
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| And the customers are mostly of the solid working class
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| The old pub gets over-crowded every sale day in the town
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| When the auctioneers and squatters and the stockmen gather round
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| The arrangement of the bottles on the shelf behind the bar
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| May not be in order like some fancy hotels are
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| And his way of keeping bank notes in a sack of calico
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| Would be scoffed at by accountants but it seems all right with Joe
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| Now Joseph has arranged it to the audience’s delight
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| Country music playin' in the lounge on Friday night
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| Oh the entertainers may not get a hearing in a club
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| But the drinkers sure applaud them
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| Down at Joe Maguire’s pub
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| Now young Patrick on the bar staff serves you with a pleasant smile
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| And Joe afronts the old place in a free and easy style
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| And if you’re in town try their tucker old mate its first class grub
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| And you know the beers one cent cheaper
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| Down at Joe Maguire’s pub
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| Oh he’s been around a long time he’ll be round a long time yet
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| And he runs the kind of pub I like an' so will you I bet
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| So I tell you fellow bushmen when you’re in town from the scrub
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| Oh you’ll really find a welcome down in Joe Maguire’s pub
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| Yes I wandered into Tamworth from a station in the scrub
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| And settled on a bar-stool down at Joe Maguire’s pub
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| From the moment that I walked in there and bought myself a beer |