We all went out camping, my high school mates and me
A bonfire and some beers and some guitars
And a little gas-fueled cooker on the sandbanks of a creek
A night of teenage fun beneath the stars

Well our mate Kerin, he was known to be a bit unwise
Whenever in the presence of a fire
He’d set himself alight once so it came as no surprise
When he took the can of butane off that fryer

“I tell you what,” said Kerin, “for a bit of fun and games,
Wouldn’t it be awesome if I threw it on the flames?”

“Don’t be a dickhead Kerin, you’ll get us all blown up”
“It’s fine,” he said, “I’ve done this once before!”
We ignored him, he won’t do it, he’s just teasing and he’s drunk
Whatever did he do, you might enquire?
He threw that can of butane on the fire

“Oh shit!” we yelled as we all ducked and covered for relief
Graham ran upstream and Bonnie cried
Chris and Jarred, they were cursing, Brendon hid behind a tree
Wade was just surprised no one had died

But you know what happened? Nothing. Not a fizz or bang or spark
An underwhelming outcome from the can
And then 20 minutes later, before it got too dark
We decided we’d go swim down to the dam

We swam and fished and jumped from trees and joked about some crocs
And we floated in the rapids from the weir’s downstream rocks

The calmness and the peace, that’s what we came here for
The sound of birds returning for the dusk
And the whispering of the breeze as we watch the eagle soar
Then all of a sudden – BANG

Well thankfully we all survived cause we were far from camp
But surely we’d be dead now if we’d stayed
Then at school on Monday morning there were rumours of a man
Who’d tested out a home-made hand grenade

So that’s the tale of Kerin, he’s since left us, RIP
But I’m sure he looks back down on us with joy
For he taught a valued lesson which’ll always stay with me
Whatever did I learn, you might enquire?
Don’t throw cans of butane on the fire