Ward 8 at the Q.E., somewhere down Woodville
A smoky grey Thursday - take out your sword
Stewie was born, there was blood on the sheets
The doctor was drunk and the sister was bored
Home was a weatherboard housing trust unit
A low cyclone fence and a sparse gravel drive
Dad was a truckie from Adelaide to Melbourne
Two trips a week just to keep them alive
The first sentence for Stewie was going to school
In prison-grey trousers he marched in the yard
His mum shed a tear at his vaselined pushback
Clutching a ruler, his name on a card
"Step forward Stewart Bedson," the headmaster said
It seemed like Stewie was always in strife
"Step forward Stewart Bedson," the magistrate said
"This time 10 years...next time, life"
Grades 1 through 7 pa**ed pretty quickly
Detention and caning and one million lines
Stewie could read just enough to get by
Stewie could read all the shoplifting signs
There was a bond for a biro and a fine for some f*gs
Another kid's bike, leading up to a car
Photographs, fingerprints, juvenile courthouse
A year in McNally's for going too far
"Step forward Stewart Bedson," the magistrate said
Over pine-panelled wood leaned the face of the law
"We think you're a threat to property and justice
Three years up the creek, while we make sure"
A robbery in violence for retaliation
For beatings and bashings at the hands of the screws
Time in and time out and time and again
Is this what they mean by paying your dues?
Some people had plenty while others had none
For the same working week it seemed year after year
Worked over by coppers for tipping the scales
Life wasn't meant to be easy.
"Step forward Stewart Bedson," the magistrate said
Over pine-panelled wood leaned the face of the law
"We think you're a threat to property and justice
Three years up the creek, while we make sure"
Ward 8 at the Q.E., somewhere down Woodville
A smoky grey Thursday - take out your sword
Stewie was born, there was blood on the sheets
The doctor was drunk and the sister was bored