Drinkin

well i tripped and fell on my own shoelaces
it was almost worth it from the look on their faces
at the Trailways station lotsa vodka in my pocket
and big purple shiner on my left eye socket

stepped in something gooey god I hope it was spaghetti
it smelled so awful that I roared like a yeti
or maybe like a lion on the vast Serengeti
or the distinctive twang of the great Duane Eddy
but not like Helen Reddy (i’ve gone on a tangent again) (hear her roar)

drinking’s fun for you maybe
but not so much for me

i’d be chatting up strangers thinkin drinkin’s symbiotic
sounded clever in my head but it came out idiotic
sweating like old dynamite, i may be odoriferous
but my vocabulary’s fabulous and man am i vociferous
its well known among the constabulary, with whom I’d interact regulabulalry

drinking’s cool for you maybe
but not so much for me

drinking for anxiety, allergies, and all the rest
20-odd years i’m like an anesthesiologist
foot on the throttle / hands on the bottle
running outta doing things that I shouldn’t oughtl
alternating liquor stores / since i frequent them alotl (no soy un barracho)

drinking’s fine for you maybe
but not so much for me / not so much for me

well i blew out my liver at the age of 45
now i’m just as weird and wired but at least I’m still alive
i never have to worry bout getting popped for drink and drive
but being sober doesn’t mean i (hafta) stay between the lines
and i’ve run out of rhymes …

drinking’s fine for you maybe
drinking’s fun for you maybe
drinking’s cool for you maybe
but not so much for me