Raise
Taxi is a
H .J.
Holden with a plastic bucket
on the top.
There's a bald tyre, a shimmy in the steering and
you have to pump the brakes just to stop.
He parks at the rank, reading the form guide,
pick a winner on the tote.
It's
Ray's
Taxi, and
Ray's ready to go
Ray's never joined the local co -op
He's a cowboy cabby on his own
The two -way crackles,
it's the boss
Barrel on the base, station back at home
Stop your chatting,
Ray, make a pick -up,
Ray,
Ray, your dinner's getting cold
It's
Ray's taxi, but
Ray does as he's told
In a town, out of town,
cruising up and down
Byron
Street
It's the man with the hat and the cab
that everyone knows
It's
Ray's
Taxi, and
Ray's ready to go
Well,
Ray's always got the juiciest gossip
And you'll always get his point of view
On the farny weather or on
last night's footy
He'll tell you what they ought to do
Spice it up a bit, keep that meter ticking,
take them home the long way
It's
Ray's
Tax i, and
Ray is do ing okay
In a town, out of town,
cruising up and down
Byron
Street
It's the man with the hat and the cab
that everyone knows
It's
Ray's
Taxi, and
Ray's ready to go
Ray traded in the
HJ
Holden for a
Falcon built in 84
It's a smart new colour, he's got new seat covers,
he's screwed a new sign on the door
But
Ray's at the
TAB, barrels on the two -way
Cursing and calling out his name
It's
Ray's new tax i, but
Ray's still just the same
In a town, out of town,
cruising up and down
Byron
Street
It's the man with the hat and the cab
that everyone knows
It's
Rise
Taxi, and
Rise
Ready to
Garb
Yeah,
Rise
Tax i, and
Rise
Ready to
Garb
Yeah,
Rise
Tax i, and
Rise
Ready to
Garb
you