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John Williamson
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Short Of A Quid
Well I've listened with patience to all your sad tales,
When you're short of a smoke or the pub's got not ale,
But tell me fair dinkum, I don't want you to kid,
Have you ever been sipping and short of a quid.
Have you been to strange town in search of job,
Where a stranger's not welcome by the local born mob.
Youve probably done the same thing as I did,
Stood around in the bar and was short of a quid.
As I gazed at the drinkers all quenching their thirst,
My lips were so dry I thought they would burst.
I reckoned someone would notice but no-body did
Theyve apparently never been short of a quid.
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The publican's looks were black as the night,
And I heard someone whisper, this blokes on the bite.
So I held up my wrist-watch and called for a bid,
But no one would buy it or lend me a quid.
Oh you blokes who have money to travel in style,
May laugh at my story but I too can smile.
To the ?traveller? and the drifter Ill raise my old head,
Cause they know what its like to be short of a quid.
Well Ive listened with patience to all your sad tales,
When youre short of a smoke, or the pubs got no ale,
But tell me you Gypsies I dont want you to kid,
Have you ever been travelling short of a quid.
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