Irony was what befell me Great Grand Uncle Sam,
he choked upon the very last potato in the land.
âŚ
Weâll drink and drink and drink and drink and then weâll drink some more.
Weâll dance and sing and fight until the early morninâ light,
then weâll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkinâ once again!
Thereâs whiskey in the jar.
(I canât fucking believe that the first result for âWhiskey in the Jarâ on Google is Metallica. I donât want to live on this planet anymore.)
I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
Oh, where are you going
With beards all a-wagginâ?
No knowing, no knowing
What brings Mister Baggins
And Balin and Dwalin
In June in the valley, ha-ha!
Thereâs earthly way of knowing which direction we are going
Thereâs no knowing where weâre rowing, or which way the riverâs flowing.
Well we know where weâre going
But we donât know where weâve been
And we know what weâre knowing
But we canât say what weâve seen
He drinks a Whiskey drink, he drinks a Vodka drink
He drinks a Lager drink, he drinks a Cider drink
Whiskeyâs too rough, Champagne costs too much, vodka puts my mouth in gear
This little refrain should help me explain as a matter of fact I like beer
Iâm weavinâ this story â how sadly but true
On women and whiskey and what they can do
Cigarettes, whiskey and wild wild women
Theyâll drive you crazy, theyâll drive you insane;
She drives me crazy, like no one else.
She drives me crazy, and I canât help myself.
You did it to yourself.
Can it be my De La clothes
Or is it just my De La song?
What I do ainât make-beleive
People say I sit and try
But whan it comes to being De La
Itâs just me myself and I
Youâre fuckinâ crazy!
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Possibly
Weâre never gonna survive unless we get a little⌠crazy.
Heaven knows, anything goes.
In heaven, everything is fine.
