The Ballad Of Bono’s Hat

The PA’s sweating and no one’s betting that the singer’s gonna take the stage,
He forgot his favourite trilby, it’s the one that’s all the rage,
It’d been left at one of his houses and in twenty seconds flat,
A taxi has been summoned to pick up Bono’s hat.

They booked it in on a B.A. flight for the next leg of the trip,
The taxi driver was smiling, he got a hundred pounds and a tip,
The stewardess tucked it in to the first class seat-ah,
Put peanuts on the food tray and offered it a margarita.

Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat

You’re a dark superstar of mill-in-ery think of all the headlines you’re grabbin’,
Your pork pie elegance has been upgraded to the captain’s cabin,
Swing low chariot, go hat go, Bono’s going to phone ya,
To see if you’ve reached Italy and touched down in Bologna.

The hired chauffeur’s at the airport gate, waiting on the welcome mat,
Holding up a chunk of cardboard on which is scribbled Mr Bono’s hat,
Burning rubber on the way to Modena, singer Vox is going potty,
He needs his headwear for the charity gig with Luciano Pavarotti.

Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat

That stretched out limo cools its wheels in the backstage area,
The roadies rush the hat to the dressing room to ease the U2 man’s hysteria,
The Edge sticks his head around the door and states that he has clearance,
To announce to the media that Bono’s gonna make an appearance.

Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat,  Bono’s hat