Stray Horse Canyon

Giddy up
Slow down
Bottoms up
Your round

You’ve got a face made of kids’ circles
and bottle glasses like 8am workers
Well it tastes like the spirit
of those whose life is flagging
That’s what you get in Stray Horse Canyon

Well before it all, he’d been a mule
A brickie’s mate, a labourer’s tool
Found George and Gisella
in their blue cellar coats
and their white wine and splash
like hell afloat
With a nose to the breeze
you don’t need no travelling companion
There are plenty of friends already there in Stray Horse Canyon

So you ride on in, scope it all out
Wheeling and dealing, so blind and devout
You see the next one who’s leaving
put an arm around him
Then you’re back on the game
oiled on whiskey and gin
The nose to the breeze
This ain’t no place for gambling
That’s how it goes in Stray Horse Canyon

Well down come the shutters
out go the lights
There are truck engines cackling
on this Saturday night
You throw a few jabs to the left
pull up your collar
Your breath cuts the air
his step echoes and hollows
Heading for those cold stones
Heading for a landing
That’s how it goes in Stray Horse Canyon