When You'Re Short Of A Quid

Well, I’ve listened with patience to your sad tales
When you’re short of a smoke or the pub has no ale
but tell me fair dinkum, I don’t want you to kid
Have you ever been drifting and short of a quid
If you’ve been to a strange town in search of a job
Where a stranger’s not welcome with the local born mob
and you’ve probably done the same thing as I did
Stood around in a bar and was short of a quid
As I gaze at the drinkers all quenching their thirst
My lips were so dry, I thought they would burst
I reckoned someone would notice but nobody did
They’d apparently never been short of a quid
The publican’s looks were as black as the night
and I heard someone wisper, 'this bloke’s on the bite'
So I held up my wrist watch and called for a bid
No-one would buy it or lend me a quid.
Now, you blokes who have money, to travel in style
may laugh at my story but I too can smile
and to the battler and the driver, I’ll raise my old lid
Because they know what it’s like to be short of a quid
So if the pub has no beer, you could always drink rum
while you can wait with your mates for the quota to come
but your forehead gets wrinkled like the hat on your head
when you stand in a bar and your short of a quid
Yes, I’ve listened with patience to your sad tales
When you’re short of a smoke or the pub has no ale
but tell me fair dinkum, I don’t want you to kid
Have you ever been drifting and short of a quid