[Verse 1- FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] mmmmmmmmm Dad was a bridge builder, A foreman most of his life, Up before the sun came up, Mum a dutiful wife. There'd be sandwiches for smoko, Wrapped in yesterday's bread, In whatever plastic bag The loaf had left behind instead. [Verse 2- FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] But Dad had his brown leather bag, With a belly big and round, Two sides snapped together, And a handle worn and sound. It looked a bit like a doctor's bag, But Dad was no doctor, no sir, He was a blue-collar working man With a lunch that smelled like... quite absurd... [Chorus- FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] Hands off Dad's brown bag, That was the rule back then, Don't go poking through his things, Don't ask what's tucked within. Fish paste, sardines and Vegemite, A thermos full of brew, Whatever else was in that bag Was strictly Dad's -- not you! [Verse 3-FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] Sometimes there'd be a riss-ole Squashed between two slices, Mum didn't have a hundred choices, She didn't need advice. And there'd be Pab-lo in the thermos, With powdered milk and sugar too, A teaspoon and a yellow tin mug - That was Dad's morning brew. [Verse 4- FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] We saved those old bread wrappers, There weren't no fancy bags, You used them till they couldn't Be used another time. Looking back, we were recycling, Though we never called it that, And somehow Dad's whole working day Was packed inside that bag. [Verse 5 FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] Tucked right down in the corner, Past the grime and the daily news, Was a little cardbox of Vin-cents To shift the heavy-thinking blues, When the bridge plans got too stubborn, Or the heat would make him blind, He'd pop the powder in his mouth, To ease his working mind. [Chorus 2-FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] That brown bag went out the door, And we knew to let it be, It sat beside him in the car And held its mystery. Maybe plans for building bridges, Maybe things we'd never know - But when Dad picked that bag up, We knew it was time to go. [Bridge-FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] I remember leather, Old shoes and fishy bread, The smell of working men's lives That lingered where he'd tread. Funny what the years don't lose, The things that memory keeps - Not the grand things, not the important things, Just the little bits that seep. [Final Chorus-FEMALE LEAD VOCAL] Hands off Dad's brown bag, We knew better than to pry, It went out with him each morning As the station wagon rolled by. He'd throw it on the back seat, Then head off to the job - And that old brown bag went with him, And we never asked him why... [Outro -FEMALE LEAD VOCAL quiet, reflective] I never knew what was inside it, Beyond the lunch Mum packed each day. But that old brown bag went everywhere Dad went on his way. And that's the funny thing about memory - some things never seem to fade. Dad never went to work without it... and somehow, I still see that bag today.
