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Of all the flamin’ rotten luck I said alighting from me van;
kicked the wheel holding the flat to upset our touring plan.
We’re miles away from anywhere as I rummage through our gear,   
for underneath our chock full load the spare is hidden here.

Then horror of all horrors, I cursed and swore then spat,
I’d forgot to check the spare and that too is flamin’ flat,
So we’ve ‘gotta’ wait for someone (which isn't often on this road).
Two hours we boiled in the sun before its back to travelling mode.

Another problem surfaced then for as the sun did set;
having no idea where we were and not accommodated yet.
In our headlights there's a change of luck - ‘B & B’s’ a welcome sight.
Me and the missus drove in hoping there’s room here tonight.

The old farmer with his torchlight walked us down the back.
With the beam he pointed toward a dirty run down shack.
The doorway’s full of cobwebs; windows were broken too.
He chased out a big goanna saying "Now it should be fit for you".

"Where's the toilet?” Asked the missus - “I usually visit through the night."
"I never thought of that” he said. “I'll make sure that you’re right".
He came back with a bucket, and said, "If you want privacy,
you will have to take the bucket behind the pepper tree".

Next morning just on sunrise the farmer knocks and says
"Hope I didn't wake you up - would you like bacon and eggs?”
"Yes please" we said together. “Can we have some coffee too?”
"Do you both take milk?" The farmer asked. We both replied "Thank-you".

As we packed up across he came to pick up our dirty plates.
I told him that his breakfast was one that highly rates.
"Your coffee's great" the missus said "You and your wife should take a bow".
"Why thanks” the farmer said. “Now where’s the bucket - I've ‘gotta’ milk the 
cow".
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