(Verse 1) They woke up in the morning To fog and muddy ground, The old tent leaking rainwater Through a giant hole we found. One bloke yelled, “We should fix it!” But another cracked a beer, Said, “Mate, the fish are waitin’… That hole can wait till next year.” (Chorus) There’s nothin’ like a fishing trip With your best mates by your side, Out beyond the farm gates Where the muddy rivers wind. A few cold beers, a splash of rum, Tall stories growin’ wild, And somehow all these broken blokes Feel young again for a while. Yeah, the fish might not be bitin’, And the tent might leak all night, But the laughs beside that fire Make every memory right. (Verse 2) They loaded up the tackle box, Their rods and rusty gear, And headed for the riverbank With an Eski full of beer. Then somebody yelled, “Holy hell!” And nearly hit the drink, He swore he caught a monster fish… Though no one saw the thing. (Chorus) There’s nothin’ like a fishing trip With your oldest, loudest mates, A hidden little paradise Beyond the cattle gates. A few more beers, guitars come out, Bad singing fills the night, And every song sounds brilliant there Beneath that old moonlight. Yeah, the fish might not be bitin’, And the rain might flood the fire, But no one wants those nights to end Or ever really tire. ________________________________________ (Bridge) The hangovers hit hard next morning With puffy bloodshot eyes, And every bloke agreed upon The same old fishing lies. “What are we tellin’ all the wives?” One nervous fella said, “They lost the bait, drowned half the gear, And Dave wet someone’s bed!” Then silence fell amongst the boys As they checked the Eski floor… One lonely fish stared back at them They’d caught just one, no more. ________________________________________ (Final Chorus) There’s nothin’ like a fishing trip With your best mates through the years, The rivers, mud, and campfire smoke, The laughter and the beers. Someday we’ll all be older men With silver in our hair, Still laughing ’bout that leaky tent Like they were still camped there. Yeah, life moves on and time rolls by Faster than they’d like, But memories made beside that fire Stay with you for life. (Outro) So here’s to all the fishing trips, The chaos and the fun, The tents with holes, the tall fish tales, And mateship second none. And somewhere packed in dusty sheds That old tent still survives… Still full of holes… Just like the stories told To all their loving wives.