I was sitting in a bar in Adelaide
Starin' at the barmaids tits
When I overheard a conversation that really
Gave me the shits
There was a cream shirted businessman
Shooting off his mouth
To two of his safari jacket cronies
I could not believe what was being discussed
By those three straight laced phonies
They said this country is on the rocks
We gotta kick the commos out
Not a day too soon or we'll all be doomed
And our wives and kids will have the pox
The dollars not worth the paper it's printed on
Our stocks are droppin' like bricks
The unions got the country by the balls
Our morals have been hit for a six
They moved the plastic plant over to the east
They're tryin' to keep the river clean
What about our profit where's our incentive
What about the capitalist dream?
Then all of a sudden three girls arrived
Promotin' some new cigarettes
And headed for these three dead heads
Like my manager after his debts
And soon these family men and these three girls
Who were young enough to be their daughters
Got horny and headed off back to their motel
Leavin' me to sip my mineral water
These are the kinda guys
When they were in school
They'd punch a few longhairs
Play the fool
Now they're married settled down
Wearin' cufflinks workin' downtown
Property developers management consultants
Pyramid selling and all
Two sets of books for these legal crooks
And a company car at call
Big business is getting to me
Think I'll go on the dole
Might have to look for something to eat
But I won't have to search my soul
So everybody that's here tonight
Be prepared to stay and fight
'Cos when the rich get richer and the poor stay poor
Someone's gonna come poundin'
On your door
And it won't be the cops it'll be your friends
And you're gonna have to stick by them
Till the end
So all you readers of the Toorak Times
And connoisseurs of vintage wines
Switch on your brains read between the lines
You don't have to pay those parkin' fines
And for all you defenders of Peanut Joh
Who hang onto the past and hang onto your dough
Your daughters are out at our rock'n'roll show
Cos it sure beats home when there's nowhere to go
Yeah it sure beats home when there's nowhere to go
So I'm in a bar in Adelaide
And your somewhere out there
Maybe your laughing at me and my mates
Well I'd think again before it's too late
Maybe your sick of message songs
But the song ain't where the message belongs
It belongs in your heart and in your hands
'Cos if it ain't then you're not a free man