Listen up barflies, tricksters and drunks,
People’s lives wasted with heads down the dunk;
What if there really is a land for you and me,
Where the bar is eternal, refills are free.

You may have heard the jokes
Escaping creased lips,
Cheeks scattered with scars
Lives rallied around bars.

But I implore you;
What if the beer runs in a river
And contains something sweet to help along your liver

Bags of peanuts grow on trees
No alley-way dogs crawling with fleas,
No aging ******, the price a humiliating tease.

We of the wasted, the broken; the done
Heaven doesn’t really sound like much fun.
Tennis greens and elegant scenes
Don’t meet our  tastes
For ***** ashtrays
Engine oil and grease;
Gangs of bikers and hordes of police.

When I find that sign creaking in the wind
I’ll indulge in one final binge;
With an ex-wife in Hawaii
A boy out in Leicester (or New Mexico)
A veteran-frazzled brother
And a daughter who doesn’t want to know;
A bank sends love letters requesting my stuff.

The bible urges me clean
I look up to heaven
Doesn’t sound like my scene.

So hear me you wasted, you hardened,
Capillaries burst staining noses red;
Let’s comply to the census
And drink ‘til we’re dead,

Because the eternal bar, the river of beer,
Is all in your drunken head.

My Prince Charming has turned into an ugly, old toad,
but that’s what happens when you choose this road.

The road so traveled by all the toads before;
makes me wonder what you see at the *****’s door.

I would think by now it would be rotten and smell,
but that’s not where my thoughts will dwell.

Why are they always uglier than me?
It can’t be because you like what you see.

Is it because the ****** like to drink beer?
Or is it because they’ll **** on your spear?

You’d think by now all of you would have warts.
You know the kind that stays in your shorts.

You think you’re so handsome, have you looked in the mirror?
One day soon they won’t let you get nearer.


But by then you will not make me cry
and they’ll look like they were put up wet to dry.

They may be younger but you keep getting older.
What will you do when you get the cold shoulder?

What will they do when you run out of money?
I bet they won’t think that it’s very funny.

Or how about when the pills are all done?
I bet a fight will be caused over that one.

Nothing like pill-head ****** to ***** around with.
To get them drunk, does it take a fifth?

An eight ball of coke, that ought to do it.
When it’s all gone I bet you don’t get in it.

I may have been with you through thick and thin,
but I ain’t touching that warty skin.

We did have magic for so many years,
but that was before the coke and beer.

One day I’ll see you all and grin.
For you’ll have caught the clap: what a payback for sins.