Em                 C            D
Oh, Peter's a cabby on Adelaide roads
       Em                            C            D
And in five o'clock traffic that's a hard road to hoe
       Em                        C                 D       Em     C   D
And he hunts for his family in a Holden with a two-way and meter

    Em                                C            D
And there's no air conditioning where he plies his trade
       Em                       C      D
On the green plate stand by the Rundle Arcade
Em                        C            D           Em     C   D
Sits and he waits for the privilege of driving you home

[Instrumental]
D Am  D  Am  D G D D/F# Em C D

[Verse]
            Em                  C            D
And there's no Mr. Muzak in the front of his cab
       Em              C         D
Just a crackling voice dog-eared roadmap
       Em               C             D       Em     C   D
And a torch and a biro sliding around on the dash

[Verse]
    Em                                   C              D
And your life's in his hand when they're gripped on the wheel
    Em                         C         D
The water pump rattles and the Michelins squeal
          Em                 C           D          Em     C   D
He's been driving for years sometimes it feels like forever

[Instrumental]
D Am  D  Am  D G D D/F# Em C D

[Verse]
    Em                 C            D
And knows very well your city of gardens
    Em                         C         D
He'll take you from town drop you at Marsden
          Em                 C           D          Em     C   D
Peak hour: five minutes, if you think that's easy just try it

[Verse]
    Em                 C            D
He can change a flat tire in three minutes flat
    Em                         C         D
Lubes his own car lying flat on his back
          Em                 C           D          Em     C   D
Tunes up his motor with a timing light in his ear

[Instrumental]
D Am  D  Am  D G D D/F# Em C D

[Verse]
    Em                 C            D
Oh you could be at Woodville, you could be at Stirling
    Em              C         D
Sun may be burning, fog may be swirling
          Em                 C           D          Em     C   D
But Peter's still driving all down that endless white line

[Verse]
    Em                 C            D
Could be the morning, midday or midnight
    Em              C         D
He'll sell you a ride, his yellow roof light
          Em                 C           D          Em     C   D
Till a drag operator gives him a job to go home

[Solo]
Em C D Em C D
Em C D Em C D
Em C D Em C D
Am D