Look at `em! Toffs with their big cigars, Drivin` along in their motor cars. Nothin` at all like the olden days When the blokes came by in their bullock drays, When a cut o` the joint and a hunk o` bread Was a meal for a king; an` a man was fed. But beer! Why, man, they could lap a lot. There was thousands made on this very spot; Forchins taken behind this bar An` never the sight of a motor car, Or a dolled-up mug with `is bag o` tricks Lookin` for tucker at `arf past six! Struth! I ain`t running no resterong With food on the table the `ole day long. This is a pub -- or it used to be, An` the bar-room takin`s is wot suits me. But "the food ain`t `ot!" and "the rooms ain`t clean!" An` they spen`s on likker -- not one brass bean. A bed an` a blanket was good enough When thirsts was `earty an` men was tough. But the `ole darn country has gone to pot With their Licensin` Court an` all that rot! A ladies` boardin` `ouse, that`s their lurk. Aw, I`m goin` to chuck it an` look for work.SourceThe script ran 0.002 seconds.
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