Pour me another, to recess we go,
Tender the whiskey or beer in my hand
Feelingless furlough with barleycorn glow

Hazard as high as perception is low
Don’t tell my mother, she won’t understand
Pour me another, to recess we go

Scars are clothes-covered and flesh wounds don’t show
Hide all my bruises, pretend that I’m grand
Feelingless furlough with barleycorn glow

Don’t call my mother, she won’t want to know
More to these feelings than she would have planned
Pour me another, to recess we go

Call the Mourne Mountains, and rosin the bow
Rattle the bog and the black velvet band
Pour me another, to recess we go

Don’t tell my mother, she still doesn't know
Sentiment-soaked more than she could withstand
Pour me another, to recess we go,
Feelingless furlough with barleycorn glow