Playing dominos on the big coach, sometimes winning or losing
Playing darts in the bar room, in between the boozing
And later on the stage, playing music from a dream
It's one for the travelling man, two for what he's seen.
Later at the reception, pressmen and their wives
Yes-men with their suggestions, well-whishers with their lies
Me I'm getting drunker, by the minute let it roll
It's three for the company man, four for his soul.
Later on in the hotel room, playing cards until the dawn
Others just conversating, I suppose they were having fun
And crashing to their bedrooms, legless one by one
It's five for the cold morning light, sixteen for the sun.
Back on the big coach in the morning, head full of pain
Sleepy eyes still yawning, yes we're back on the road again
Sometimes make me wonder what we'll be like at the end
It's seven for the travelling band, eight for doing it all again
Nine for the travelling band, ten for doing it all again.
