My name is Tom I own a queensland pub

there's bundy on the shelf and the ice is in the tub

no lemon lime and bitters just bundy and fourex

if they wreck the joint tonight i'll ring their flamin necks



There are so many songs about ringers out hell raisen

but what about the bloke who pulls the beers

when they've all gone I'm still out wipen tables

when they've all hit the hay while i'm still here

i'm the bloke you never hear of servin beer



I give change to the fellas if they want a game of pool

got pies in the oven mate when the weathers gettin' cool

if the boys get rowdy and decide to have a scrap

I just chuck em out the door and i go back to the taps



my name is tom I'm a diplomatic thinker

I can listen to the woes of a broken hearted drinker

when the boys come in i say how ya goin' tonight

they get a bit wild but they're young and alright

they tell me how to break a horse and how to brand a steer

I take their dough and listen cause that is why i'm here

they tell me bout musterin but they don't seem to know

that tom their local publican did that years ago

when they've all hit the hay while I'm still here

I'm the bloke you never hear of servin beer