Hats off to a top piece of material
  |  First Published: March 2017

I lost my hat

Now how ‘bout that

It flew from the back of Boobies ship

Before we’d even backed it off the trailer

I searched the best part of Australia

From Buderim to Mooloolaba Slip

But no damn hat

Just four dead cats.

The brim was flat

My good old hat

It stank of sweat and cow manure

I’d shaped it in the cattle yards

And Turkey Beach and at The Hards

And pierced the crown with trebles and lures

I might get a tatt

Of my dear old hat.

I’m rather shat

Cause I miss my hat

It saved my ears and honker too

A blessing when the sun beat hard

A saviour when the storms appeared

And despite the smell of cattle poo

Or because of that

I’ll miss my hat.

I liked a chat

With my bashed old hat

It’s boring when the jacks aren’t biting

The sandies are thicker than a Bunnings sanger

The one with sauce and a Woollies banger

And I can’t even catch a few whiting

And I’m on me pat

I miss that hat.

Another hat

Is where I’m at

I’ll find a wider one amongst the saddles

I can maybe use it as a live bait tank

Or use it to bail if we start to sank

And I can always use it as an extra paddle

But I’ll feel like a twat

In a brand new hat.

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