The Traveller - Lyrics - James Reyne

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 Chorus 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 Chorus 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