Two Weeks On, One Week Gone

Red dirt sunrise, boots by the door. Same swing side like a thousand

before. Steel cap dreams and a four-bed dorm. Counting the days

till I'm where I belong, yeah. Phone's got no bars,

but the boss wants to call. We're just ghosts in our High Vics,

giving it all. Two weeks on, one week gone. Living on dust, beer,

and fivefold songs. The plane takes off, my heart stays home.

Two weeks on, one week gone. Crib room coffee, cold as stone. Miss my kid's

birthday through a static phone. Maid cracked a joke, we laughed too