It's been a hard hard year, pushing shit up hill
But shit happens all the time and I guess it always will
Now the days are getting long, summer's on it's way
And I can't wait for Christmas time, because the day after is Boxing Day
And you'll know where to find me, ten rows back at the M.C.G
Right behind the bowler's arm
So leave your worries at the farm don't fret about the rain
Hold your credit at the store, bring the kids down on the train
Meet me on the Richmond side just outside the gate
I want to see the very first ball but no sweat if you're running late
'Cause you know where to find me, there's no place I'd rather be
Right behind the bowler's arm
And if we're lucky we might see, someone make a ton or slashing fifty
Yeah if we're lucky there might be, a bowling spell of sheer wizardry
But probably nothing much will happen at all
(Even if David Boon makes a century nothing much happens)
When the angels add my days and say my time is up
I'll say to them now hold on please there's one thing you forgot
I know each man must leave this world behind when he gets called
But we had a deal that you won't count the days I watched the bat and ball
And the angels, they'll know where to find me
There's no place I'd rather be
Right behind the bowlers
They'll know where to find me, ten rows back with sunburnt knees
Right behind the bowler's arm
