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Two Weeks On, One Week Home

Words and Music by Ben Scott (c) 2014

An adventurous life or so it seemed 
and the pay was more than I'd ever dreamed
Two weeks on and one week home 
so I said goodbye to my family
When we first flew out I was ready and bold 
but the airport halls now leave me cold
Two weeks on and one week home 
Is no kind of way to live

Chorus:
Well its a tin plate shed where I stay twin share
Not an eighth as big as the trucks up there
Two weeks on and one week home is no kind of way to live
Where the red dust runs in your eyes and teeth
And they care for naught but the ore beneath
Two weeks on and one week home is no kind of way to live

In the wire-mesh pubs on the edge of town 
the fighting starts when the sun goes down
Where heat and flies and over-priced beer 
make the life of a dump truck engineer
My three year old little girl believes 
I'm keeping a second family
She hides her face when I first come home 
by the time she warms I am packing to go

Chorus

I'd love to ride on the red dust plain 
where Albert Facey lost his way
Where the hills stretch calm in the setting sun 
and the rocks and the earth have never been tamed
But while my hands did more than I thought they could
My eyes have seen more than they should
So I'll pack my bags when this shift is done 
And never go back no more

And for all the gold they would offer me 
Up at old Tom Price or in Hammersley
Two weeks on and one week home is no kind of way to live
Where the red dust runs in your eyes and teeth
And they care for naught but the ore beneath
Two weeks on and one week home is no kind of way to live
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