Well it's a hard time for the traveller And it's a high time for the poor Something's very wrong here This key won't fit the door I'm gonna call a lawyer Gonna call the president Sure I heard the words you said I just don't know what you meant Won't manhandle anymore Just wanna tell the world I'm home Yes I'm home Slide over baby Your bad dream's back again Got a rifle - totin' man He's got a shot-gun in his hand We don't care no more We've got a dead - bolt on the door Tonight we're gonna see who wins We're gonna suffer for our sins We're gonna knock down all the windows We're gonna let the cold wind blow I don't understand the bother Appreciate the fuss Fogging up the windows On a big fat greyhound bus Everybody's talkin' There's such a carry on By the time they form a posse' I'll be long gone I'm home I'm back I'm home Ooh alright baby Your bad dream's back again