You might think its a one horse town No traffic lights, one roundabout Beccy runs the corner shop Shuts the door at five oclock You might think this town is dead Cause we aint got no drive through yet Our one garage dont 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 Hes filled the fridge, hes booked the band Six oclock he preps the troops Eight oclock all hell breaks loose Its four oclock in the afternoon Locals know whats coming soon From the west theres a cloud of dust Theyre coming in there comin fast
oclock, grand, beccy, truckies, rigg