Lyrics

In the shadow of the Pack Horse, where the drink flows like blood,
Craig’s got a thirst, a battle cry, in the whiskey muddied flood.
Fifteen pints of Guinness, he dreams in the dim light,
With a mind like a car turd, lost in a drunken fight.


Bogan is shit, thick as dog shit,
Riding the waves of his own madness,
Bulk Bogan, screaming his name,
In the pit of despair, drowning in shame.


Quiz night warriors gather, the stakes are piled high,
But our hero’s got a brain that’s as fried as a fly.
He raises his glass, the Irish Rover’s tune,
A twisted anthem echoing under the pale moon.


Bogan is shit, thick as dog shit,
Riding the waves of his own madness,
Bulk Bogan, screaming his name,
In the pit of despair, drowning in shame.


Visions of victory swirl, but the answers evade,
His heart beats heavy, in this dark masquerade.
Like a monster cloaked in shadows, he stumbles and sways,
Chasing the ghosts of his past through this hellish maze.


The quizmaster smirks, with a glint of disdain,
Craig fumbles his words, in this suffocating pain.
N-word slurs dripping from the lips of the vile,
In the depths of the pub, we’re all lost in denial.


Bogan is shit, thick as dog shit,
Riding the waves of his own madness,
Bulk Bogan, screaming his name,
In the pit of despair, drowning in shame.


So drink up, Craig, let the darkness ignite,
In the depths of the Pack Horse, you’re a beacon of blight.
With each pint you conquer, let your demons take flight,
For the bogan, your spirit, is forever in the night.