Kit bag all packed six cases of beer
All chucked in the back of the truck.
Tool kit thrown in , a bumper jack to
Just in case you get yourself stuck.

The tracks pretty rough and it looks very wet
But who cares when you’ve got you’re de-bogging plates.
What matters the most is you’re getting away
For a week ends booze up with you’re mates.

But that’s what it was like a long time ago
Drinking and driving along the camp track.
Bouncing through ditches, climbing peat banks
It was pretty damned rough, not good for the back.

Several bone crushing hours later you’re finally there
All stiff and cramped from bouncing around.
But that’s just the beginning attending these doo’s
You can bet by the nights end you’ll sleep pretty sound.

The week end now over it’s time to head home
Along that familiar rutted boggy camp track.
You vow you will never drink another alcohol drop
But the next damned week end you’re heading right back.