A song for the fire

[Tanner Lovelace <lovelace@netcom.com>]

(steps up to the fire)
Well, it's about time I contributed a song to the group.
This is a drinking song (ironic, since I don't drink much ;-)


Now what are the joys of a single young man?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
And what is he doing whenever he can?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
You may think I'm wrong and you may think I'm right.
I'm not gonna argue, I know you can fight.
But what do you think we are doing tonight?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.

Now what are the joys of a young married man?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
And what is he doing whenever he can?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
He comes home at night, and he gives his wife all,
Then goes out shopping, makes many a call.
But what brings him home hanging on to the wall?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.

Now what do the priests and the vicars condemn?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
And what are they damning in every town?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
They stand on street corners.  They rant and they shout.
They shout about things they know nothing about.
But what are they doing when the lights are all out?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.

Now what is it that we love more than our tea?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
And what has us all nippin' out for a whee?
  Why boozin, bloody well, boozin.
Your pocket is empty.  Your bladder is tight.
You're gargling your beer the best part of the night.
Your eyes go deep red and your face goes pale white,
  from boozin, bloody well, boozin.


(steps back to the bar)
Okay, now what'll everybody have? ;-)

Kendrick
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 Tanner Lovelace | lovelace@netcom.com    |  D /       C /  Fence
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         Per chevron argent and azure, a wolf passant 
         sable between two compass roses conterchanged.