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.