I've got a little place to myself up on Stony Ridge
I got it made in the shade
I sleep in the afternoon
Leave my bed unmade
No-one breathing down my neck, black coffee and a shave
I whistle a little of whatever AM radio plays
As for letters and provisions...
Well it's a long walk to the corner shop
In the January heat, it's a big decision
To either think of you, or not

I send you a New Year's Kiss
And I hope you will remember me like this

I got two good arms, one bent leg,
One weekly social security cheque
I can make an honest dollar, but to be quite honest
I can't keep track of where it went
I've got a good black dog, so I don't need a phone
He can smell bad weather coming in his old dog bones
I don't need no Eyewitness News, no Seven Eleven
No Southern Fried Chicken, no Man from Prudential
To give me good times on easy terms
No Eyewitness News

And in the evening when the skyline is cut in two
By a figure resembling you
Wet matches won't light, and I double take
Wind shudders to a halt, main roads are washed out
And all around, as far as the night can see
Is just the gaping lack of you and me

I hear you're riding a new horse in the sun
Sure hope those Sydney shoeshine boys don't take you for a
run
I still want you back, when it's all said and done

Let the sky roll back/Let the ground give way
The wind has turned around/The seasons upside down
To either think of you/Or not
To either think of you/Or not

The Triffids, New Year's Greetings (The Country Widower)