The formative year, born into drought,
Sparse dusty paddocks no fodder about,
The start of a new year, it rained for a week,
That's how young Barney ended up in a creek.
The Limpinwood Brahman was having a snack,
Making the most of the grass sprouting back,
The rain was relentless, Tweed River in peak,
Our young bull slipped into the Hopping Duck Creek.
It was dark, it was cold and the current was strong,
Anything that floated was carried along,
Through causeways and bridges our bovine was swept,
Bypassed Murwillambah as the populace slept.
Seven long hours immersed in that swell,
The terrified beast on a journey through hell,
Heading due easttowards the mighty Pacific,
The future for Barney was looking horrific.
Ninety long kilometers on that nightmarish ride,
Pulled at and punished by a roaring king tide,
Amidst crawlies and fenceposts and branches off trees,
Exhaustion eventually brought him down to his knees.
A last gasp of desperation he scrambled ashore,
On Fingal Beach, he couldn't take more,
Now Barney's a legend in paddocks out west,
Proving again Aussie bull is the best.
