I often take these night shift walks when the foreman's not around I turn my back on the cooling stacks and make for open ground Far out beyond the tank farm fence where the gas flare makes no sound I forget the stink and I always think back to that Eastern town I remember back six years ago, this Western life I chose And every day, the news would say some factory's going to close Well, I could have stayed to take the Dole, but I'm not one of those I take nothing free, and that makes me an idiot, I suppose So I bid farewell to the Eastern town I never more will see But work I must so I eat this dust and breathe refinery Oh, I miss the green and the woods and streams and I don't like cowboy clothes But I like being free and that makes me an idiot I suppose So come all you fine young fellows who've been beaten to the ground This western life's no paaradise, but it's better than lying down Oh, the streets aren't clean, and there's nothing green, and the hills are dirty brown But the government Dole will rot your soul back there in your home town So I bid farewell to the Eastern town I never more will see There's self-respect and a steady cheque in this refinery Oh you’ll miss the green and the woods and streams and the dust will fill your nose But you'll be free, and that makes me, an idiot, I suppose These are the words I tell myself When I miss my own hometown I tell myself that I'm doing right by turning that welfare down But now I see for you and me That I want those woods and streams For I owe my life to this workers strife Why can't I just be free