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!"