In a cloud of dust they roam
Covered waggons down a country road
Happy people laugh and sing
Or hear the bell of freedom rings awhile
And the countryside is their own.
Now the town is drawing near
Parent"s eyes begin to shift with fear
While their children still play on
Not knowing they can't never settle dawn
And make a town their own
Round the camp the fires are hot
Hungry children gather round the pot
Some will go to bed tonight
Without a b*** of food or heat or light
For this town is not their own
At the dawning of the day
Peploe come and tell us to go away
We don"t want your likes in here
You bring dirt, disease, and to our children fear
Come on, get out, this town is not your own
So once more they"re on the run
Out to face the cruel wind and sun
Land of saints and scholars, we
Have lost the precious gift of charity
And don't recognise our own
Covered waggons down a country road
Happy people laugh and sing
Or hear the bell of freedom rings awhile
And the countryside is their own.
Now the town is drawing near
Parent"s eyes begin to shift with fear
While their children still play on
Not knowing they can't never settle dawn
And make a town their own
Round the camp the fires are hot
Hungry children gather round the pot
Some will go to bed tonight
Without a b*** of food or heat or light
For this town is not their own
At the dawning of the day
Peploe come and tell us to go away
We don"t want your likes in here
You bring dirt, disease, and to our children fear
Come on, get out, this town is not your own
So once more they"re on the run
Out to face the cruel wind and sun
Land of saints and scholars, we
Have lost the precious gift of charity
And don't recognise our own