Things is just the same as ever
On the outer Never-Never,
And you look to find the stock of liquor scanty;
But we found things worse than ordin'ry,
And in fact a bit extraordin'ry,
When myself and Bill the Pinker struck the shanty.
“Shanty?” says you. “What shanty?”
Why, Mulligan's shanty!
I says “Whisky”; Bill says “Brandy”;
But there wasn't either handy,
For the boss was out of liquor in that line.
“Well, I'll try a rum,” says Billy.
“Got no rum,” he answers, chilly,
“But I'll recommend a decent drop o' tine.”
“Tine?” says Bill; “what tine?”
“Why, turpentine!”
“Blow me blue!” says Bill the Pinker,
“Can't yer give us a deep-sinker?
Ain't yer got a cask o' beer behind the screen?”
Bill was getting pretty cranky,
But there wasn't any swanky.
Says the landlord, “Why not try a drop o' sene?”
“Sene?” says Bill; “what sene?”
“Why, kerosene!”
Well, we wouldn't spend a tanner,
But the boss's pleasant manner
All our cursing couldn't easily demolish.
Says he, “Strike me perpendic'lar
But you beggars are partic'lar,
Why, the squatter in the parlour's drinking polish!”
“Polish?” says Bill; “what polish?”
“Why, furniture-polish!”