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 weather's 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.