Dry Camp

When I walked off the bus, they checked my bag
I said, "Dear, I'm here to work"
But by the time about a week had passed
I wished I'd had a bottle in my shirt
At the end of the day, I like to cleanse my palate
Got a powerful thirst to quench
Hauling like a dog down in close quarters
Cramped up from the wrench

Trying to unwind
Sitting alone
Between four walls with a bed and a lamp
All I know is I'm getting on the liquor
When I gets myself out of this dry camp

When I got name hired, half the crew got fired
And what was left thanked Christ for CLAC
But there'll be eight days in the month
When they'll have to hire all of 'em back
I'd say I've built half of Alberta, ten years on the 20-and-8
And supposing it grinds right to a
halt, when I'm gone they'll have to wait

Not another yard of cement I'll pour
And not a bucket of gravel I'll tamp
All I know is I'm getting on the liquor
When I gets myself out of this dry camp

So the foreman's there in his white hat
He hardly does a thing all day
More useless fools, no good on the tools
Get promoted here every day
I suppose they figure we'd have her burned down
If they put in a small wet mess
12 hour days, best part of a month
A drop would do some in, I guess

But I don't care who's calling the shots
Nor who's here to get a stamp
'Cause all I know is I'm getting on the liquor
When I gets myself out of this dry camp

So all in all, we're treated well
And I try not to wish time past
I just put my head down and enjoy the work
'Cause first you get good, and then you get fast
When days off comes and I'm back home
I'll love life, you can bet
Work and play in a Down East way
Just makes all kinds of sense

With friends around in a house or a shed
Or a barroom dank and damp
All I know is I'm getting on the liquor
When I gets myself out of this dry camp

When that big aircraft's loaded up
And taxis off the ramp
All I know is I'm getting on the liquor
When I gets myself out of this dry camp
When I gets myself out of this dry camp
When I gets myself out of this dry camp