I work at the mines,
I’m a roustabout...
8 and 6 roster
Flying in and out...
You work hard all day
In the dust and the heat...
But the money I make,
Makes my lifestyle complete...
You’ll make plenty of mates,
When you go to the bar...
That fifty you got,
Doesn't go far...
You'll get caught in a shout,
And just have to stay...
Those problems you had,
Will all go away...
Then it’s time for bed,
Off to the donga you roam...
This square little box,
That you call your home...
After a few hours sleep,
You crawl out of bed...
Are you sober enough...
To pass that breatho you dred...
So you front up to blow,
Thinking I’m gone for sure...
Blowing three zero’s,
You’re lucky once more...
Into to the mess,
Where the foods all laid on...
Grab your crib,
And a few of them scones...
Then it’s back to work,
Another twelve hour day...
Won’t be long before,
I’ll be flying away...
Cruising the skies,
In the company plane...
As this 8 and 6 roster,
Will start over again...
Len Newey 2012