The Idiot

I often take these night shift walks when the foreman's not around
I turn my back on the coolin' 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

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 I bid farewell to the eastern town I never more will see
Oh, 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

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