Early Years Lyrics

Early years were a shroud man Only a grey cloud Shot in the dark Hanging out with your dad His plans for revenge In some hick-town caravan park Never keep a good one down Early years Were a dreadnought Waiting to tread board And my work down the pan Hanging round By the back door One foot in the stage door Some disaffected fly-by man Got wired by a cable Got wild on a table Scared the shit out of me All for the free state The snow and the greasepaint I left the singing family