I Often Take These Night Shift Walks

When The Foreman's Not Around

I Turn My Back On The Cooling Stacks

And Make For Open Ground

Far Out Beyond The Tank-farm Fence

Where The Gas Flare Makes No Sound

I Forget The Stink And I Always Think

Back To That Eastern Town



Chorus:

So I Bid Farewell To The Eastern Town

I Never More Will See

But Work I Must So I Eat This Dust

And Breathe Refinery

Oh I Miss The Green And The Woods And Streams

And I Don't Like Cowboy Clothes

But I Like Being Free And That Makes Me

An Idiot, I Suppose.



I Remember Back Six Years Ago

This Western Life I Chose

And Every Day The News Would Say

Some Factory's Going To Close

Well, I Could Have Stayed To Take The Dole

But I'm Not One Of Those.

I Take Nothing Free, And That Makes Me,

An Idiot, I Suppose.



So Come All You Fine Young Fellows

Who've Been Beaten To The Ground

This Western Life's No Paradise,

But It's Better Than Lying Down.

Oh The Streets Aren't Clean, And There's Nothing Green,

And The Hills Are Dirty Brown,

But The Government Dole Will Rot Your Soul

Back There In Your Home Town.



So Bid Farewell To The Eastern Town

You Never More Will See.

There's Self-respect And A Steady Cheque

In This Refinery.

You Will Miss The Green And The Woods And Streams

And The Dust Will Fill Your Nose.

But You'll Be Free, And Just Like Me,

An Idiot, I Suppose.