You chugged down a pint of stout Reason running in and out Your friends cheering you on Until all reason is completely gone In a moment of uncertainty You poise the possibility Of ordering another pint of that hilarity You get another one and a shot You feel your head spins and you're hot You're being cheered on by your friend-squad Reason's leaving, but you're not The evening just began And you feel a certain urge to dance Then that concludes You get the pint again And the reason still eludes
About the unreasonably high alcoholic consumption most folks go through at some point.
Alight me Paddies! Today the world is Green; I am in a mood, alas, to gnaw crubeen, To kiss my Irish lass, and cuddle her awhile, To hear the Irish Rovers sing their bonny Isle, To wear a shamrock, laboring o'er a stout: Murphy or Guinness, to me it matters naught.
Married to an Irish girl whose family hails from County Antrim. The luck of the Irish be with ye, as it has with me! (0=/*