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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