Love with the beer duo

It’s lonesome away from your kindred and all,

By the campfire at night where the wild dingoes call,

But there’s nothing so lonesome, so dull or so queer,

As to stand in the bar of the Bowlo — no beer…

Down at Goulburn Bowlo, the lights shining bright,

Footy on the telly and a Friday night vibe,

Tina’s at the counter, pouring smiles with cheer,

But the taps have run dry… there’s no bloody beer!

Oh it’s hard when the schooners stop flowin’, my friend,

At the Goulburn Bowlo where the good times don’t end,

From the smokers’ area watch the rain disappear,

But there’s nothing worse than the Bowlo — no beer!

Heather’s at the table, she’s callin’ for more,

Browny’s tellin’ stories like a hundred before,

Matty’s on the jukebox, crankin’ tunes loud and clear,

But the silence hits hard… when there’s no bloody beer…

From the green to the bar where the laughter should roll,

To the clink of the glasses that warms every soul,

Even old Keith the carter just shakes his head here,

Says “This joint’s not the same… without a cold beer…”

Oh it’s hard when the schooners stop flowin’, my friend,

At the Goulburn Bowlo where the good times don’t end,

From the smokers’ area watch the rain disappear,

But there’s nothing worse than the Bowlo — no beer!

Now the Bowlo’s our home, where the good mates meet,

From the bar to the green to the front street seat,

It ain’t just the drink — it’s the yarns that we share…

But gee it helps when there’s beer…

So here’s to the Bowlo, may the taps never dry,

Keep the kegs rollin’ in and the spirits high,

Raise up your glass, give a cheer loud and clear—

There’ll be no sad days at the Bowlo… WITH BEER! 🍻