No matter how big and no matter how small,
No matter how wild or under control,
There's always one mad man who goes to far,
Who drinks to much, then heads for the bar,
The comedians fall back which guarantees laughter,
The joke of the night, a conversation starter.
Who's attempts to be tactical are squandered at once,
As the hand misses the mouth it turns into a punch,
With a pale white face and now a black eye,
Our poor drunk friend is starting to cry,
And every one stands there points and laughs,
And its only because this time, its not us.
*key fact= reference to "tactical" is referring to a "tactical chunder" where, in a attempt to sober up you try to make yourself through up usually with the help of two fingers, lavely javely.
No comments:
Post a Comment