by cricketjeff on January 18, 2008. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
Nice rough cider, more than just some
Now wash the mixture down with beer
Then all of my troubles disappear.
Tequila as chaser, sambuca shots,
Can’t say how many, maybe lots.
Bottle of brandy, absinthe too
That’s how I’m forgetting you.
Order more, the barman says no,
He thinks it’s time that I should go.
Out of the door, flat on my face.
Drunk as a lord, I’m a disgrace.
Wait a moment something is strange –
It’s time for thoughts to rearrange.
Have I seen on a London street
Three blue pigs each with six feet?