Its high noon on the gold plain
Wind's blowing in from the west
Taking stock of what i love
And throwing out the rest
Well i'm doing fine on a monday
By friday i'm up shit creek
This hard-earned piece of property
It don't mean nothing to me
All your fortune and freedom
They're gone with the wind
I wrote thing song for you, friend
Sang it from a place of love
I'm vexed with the morning sun
And hateful of the stars above
Anything you want's got a price to pay
They don't care what you do or say
I've got a curse, it weighs heavy on my mind
When the air is still i pity the lonesome kind
Your piece of mind, out in a bush somewhere
Getting pissed on by an old man
Its his now, you know