Оригинален текст
A rat the leader of the pack
Was ever so distressed you see he lost his hat
It was his most prized possession he wore it everywhere he went
Hed picked it up whilst bag packing in a small town named Gent
His hat was less a hat perhaps more of a companion
It had seen him through the good times and reassured him in the bad ones
It reminded him of girlfriends of cigarettes and coffee
Of swimming down in Brighton of candyfloss and toffee
Of late summer Evenings of pedalows and Paris
Climbing trees and scrapping knees his little sister Gladys
He Simply couldnt do without it
Where could the damn thing be he shouted
Causing some commotion in the pub as fist hit knee
He stood up in a fit of panic spilling half his wine
And realised as he turned perhaps he was a little drunk
You see he had being sitting on his hat for the entire time