Stockland

A cowboy hat and a blue heeler-cross.
A pair of boots my wife takes off.
A tray of sheep and a Mac prime mover.
You missed your last meal.
You were dealt a bum deal.
This life seems surreal - end it sooner.

5 o’clock shadow, big broken hands.
You look like the sheriff of Stockland.
Muster up the courage to tame this land.
You look like the sheriff of Stockland.

A big-wheeled ute and a coax line.
A CB crackle and the smell of pine.
Some dodgy brakes and a worn-out horn.
File into the local pub.
Beer makes the pain go numb.
To go or to come, the feelings torn.

5 o’clock shadow, big broken hands.
You look like the sheriff of Stockland.
Turned out, worn down by this land.
You look like the sheriff of Stockland.

You know you’ll be buried in Stockland.