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Whan that I was eighteen
I played in a punk band
Now I am forty-four
A daddy and a husband

O Summer of 98
How I remember thee
Sitting in that smelly van
In the middle of BC

From Vancouver to Winnipeg
Stopping in many towns
Playing all-ages shows
Behaving like teen clowns

Sometimes we played like shit
Sometimes our band was super tight
Sometimes thinking of our mamas
Made us weep at night

Eating Mac and Cheese at a gas station
In North Saskatchewan
We saw the Northern Lights
And felt so woebegone

For this was our first time
Completely on our own
Travelling the Eastern road
That led us far from home

Mostly we slept in tents
Or out under the stars
Only once we stayed at Shitty’s house
Who owned like thirteen scars

We'd met him at a gig
He was friends with Mr Plow
He grew potatoes in his backyard
Had a TV the size of a cow!

All he ever watched was wrestling
His house filled with the cries
Of glistening men in tights
Face paint round their eyes

In downtown Winnipeg we rocked
The Royal Albert Hotel
While a dead body was found
In an upstairs suite—oh well

In Brandon (or was it Moose Jaw?)
We played a too-long set
The guys who were on after us
Were terribly upset

Said they were going to kick
The living shit out of us
So we loaded double-quick
And sped off into the woods

Another night at the Wash & Slosh
A bar in Saskatoon
Which doubled up as laundry mat
And looked like a saloon

Darren from the Francophobes
Smashed his own beer glass
With a backswing of his guitar
But he thought it was some ass-

Hole who’d hurled a beer at him
From the dark edge of the stage
It took five of us young punks
To alleviate his rage

From Calgary to Lethbridge
From Regina Town to Banff
Five unshaven teenagers
Farted in a van (fff)

Me I’d taken for the ride
Melville’s Moby Dick
Didn't read a chapter
Of that monumental brick

So many more adventures
Happened on the tour
I wouldn’t want to bore you though
And keep you up till four