I’ve had enough, I’ll drink no more,
my poor old head is very sore.
I have this ghastly aching pain;
I’ll never touch the booze again.
That alcohol? It must be banned,
since drink has got so out of hand.
I firmly know it’s wicked stuff;
I’m stopping now. I’ve had enough.
I’m not foul mouthed, my temper’s cool,
I’m not hang dog, I’m not a ghoul.
If you consider what I’ve had,
I like to think I’m not too bad.
What’s that you say? What do I think
and would I like another drink?
How very kind and entre nous,
a little one. No, make that two.
~