You might think it's a one- horse town

No traffic lights, one roundabout

Beccy runs the corner shop

Shuts the door at five o'clock



You might think this town is dead

'Cause we ain't got no drive through yet

Our one garage don't open nights

Truckies they just roll on by

But down the road at The Grand Hotel

Saturday nights are as hot as hell



The band plays, cold beer flows

Stomp the floor and dance 'till close

Comes alive when the sun goes down

Country boys and girls get loud



Billy Rigg he owns The Grand

He's filled the fridge, he's booked the band

Six o'clock he preps the troops

Eight o'clock all hell breaks loose



It's four o'clock in the afternoon

Locals know what's coming soon

From the west there's a cloud of dust

They're coming in there comin fast




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