10 July 2012


Dummy up and listen good
While I pour moonshine in your ears
We got no homes to go to
And no-one waiting there
The world is big
But not big enough
For us to fit in
We’re the bad apples
Who spoiled the whole barrel
Fitted up on charges of vagrancy
For wearing out our shoes
We were kings of the highways
With no roof to tie us down
No man could boss us around
Now we live with doors unhinged
And when the smoke has cleared
All we have is empty pockets
But once we’re back on the road
We’ll be livin’ high on the hog
Low down on the greasy pole