Grew up on the small-town streets of Dargaville,
Where people say there ain't really much to do, except
Get yourself pregnant and go on the dole
Smoke a bag of kumara, tag the skateboard bowl
Hit the beach surfing 'stead of going to school
Binge-drinking later with your friends and bros
Then go to next door's wash-line & steal all their clothes.
Still things aren't really that bad, I suppose...

Because there ain't no traffic lights in Dargaville
There ain't no traffic lights.

Outside the Northern Wairoa,
Some pussy-bitch-homies king-hit my brother
KO'd on the ground, kicked in his teeth
And if I ever catch them out, they'll rest in 'piece'.
Always keep an eye on your childhood foes,
Still things aren't really all that bad, I suppose...

Because there ain't no traffic lights in Dargaville
There ain't no traffic lights.

My high school produced a few MPs,
& a cricketer who got busted smoking weed.
They never found who grew that dope in the hort' patch,
or whoever scrawled Ninja all across them desks.
I grew up, interviewed & wrote something negative,
& the Mayor's teacher-mum wondered if it was something she did.

But when all been done & all been said
I can never have any regrets:
It's not where you're going, but where it is you're from.
Not what you're doing, but what it is you've done.
And a small town forces you to use your brain
when you're bored by the lack of entertainment.

And if you get pulled over going wrong down a one way street
The cops'll let you off, 'cos they know that where you live...

Ain't even got traffic lights in Dargaville,
There ain't no traffic lights.

There ain't no traffic lights,
There ain't no
traffic light.

There ain't really a hell of a lot to do in Dargaville,
but there ain't no traffic lights in Dargaville.

There ain't no traffic lights in Dargaville
There ain't no traffic lights.

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Lyrics, vocals, guitar, beats: D-Man
Harmonica: Harmonica Dude
Bass: Bassman Blair
Keys: G-hard