dubliners
fuck you i m drunk
I bang on the door but she won't let me in cuz you're sick and tired of me reeking of gin. lock all the doors from the front to the back and left me a note telling me I should pack I walk in a bar and the fellas all cheer they order me up a whiskey and beer you ask me why im writing this poem some call it tavern I call it home chorus: fuck you im drunk fuck you im drunk pour all my beer down the sink Ive got more in the trunk fuck you im drunk fuck you im drunk and Im going to be drunk til the next time im drunk youve given me option you say I must choose between you and the liqueur then Ill take the booze jumpin on western down to the west side for Ill sit down and exercise my Irish pride