That s a Knife...

Left the billabong, grabbed his old trusty swag,
Packed up his life in a heavy-duty bag.
Living by instincts, no rules to obey,
Then boarding a flight straight to JFK.

He meets a fine sheila, a New York elite,
But a couple of drongos are blocking the street.
They pull a switchblade, looking for a quick scene,
But I reckon they don't know where this fella has been

You think you are tough? Taking a chance?
That's a knife, mate! Welcome to the dance
(That's a knife!)
(Crikey, that's a knife!)

Now he’s at the boozer, feeling kind of crook,
Too much city drama, like a bad pop book.
No worries, he's jumping like a skippy, so wild,
Climbing the rafters, this country child

Met a beautiful sheila, a New York elite,
Where pranksters and punks are controlling the street.
They pull a switchblade just to start up a fight,
But this Aussie boy’s gonna teach 'em tonight

You think you are tough? Taking a chance
That's a knife, mate! Welcome to the dance
(That's a knife)
(Crikey, that's a knife!)

In the bush, in the town,
You can't bring the crocodile down...
He don’t need a gun or a fancy disguise,
Just a heavy-duty Bowie and the spark in his eyes

You think you are tough? Taking a chance
That's a knife, mate! Welcome to the dance
(That's a knife)
(Crikey, that's a knife)
 
No worries, mate... (Ta-ta...)