| It won’t happen again at the pub way out back
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| Since they air freight the beer and are done with the track
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| They’ve gone all real modern as you soon will hear
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| Now it’s all ancient history, the pub with no beer
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| The drover we knew rests his horse now for keeps
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| And he rides 'round the town in the latest of jeeps
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| There’s the old swaggy now, he’s a different man too
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| With a joke he’ll say don’t step on my blue suede shoes
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| The pub has no verandah, it’s a new smart drive in Where they serve you with cocktails, liqueurs and gin
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| There’s no dog in the lane and there’s no hitching post
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| The boss is no barman he’s known as mine host
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| Older Billy the blacksmith, shot home like a gun
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| And rebuilt the old place with money he’d won
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| Now he’ll service your car with the greatest of care
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| Since there’s no need for horses on the plains way out there
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| When it’s all said and done there was no need to curse
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| Although things were bad they might have been worse
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| The locals so proud all make this their boast
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| More money rolls in than along the Gold Coast
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| So it’s lonesome no more at the new Hotel Grande
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| Where there’s laughter and song plus a rock and roll band
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| But the old timers smile through the laughter and cheer
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| 'Cause they remember the days when the pub had no beer |