That tinpot town went and spat me out
Onto that eastern track
My dad he gave me a month or two
Before the city spat me back
A flat bed truck picked me up
And i crossed that great divide
I had 3 good days 'til i spent my pay
Now i'm on a downward slide

Oh i'm on a losing streak
Down a paddle i'm up the creek
Mercy be
I'm on a losing streak

The city don't place any worth
On a small town rouseabout
I've never seen so many folks
But so few who'll help you out
Got a kitchen job to earn a bob
Doing nine hours every night
I called my dad about six weeks in
And said "ya mongrel, you were right!"