Drunken, a souse crocked—that’s because
he swills booze down without pause.
Rounds in a gin spree are much deployed;
bawls when his drinking’s done—he’s annoyed.

“No, no, no! Say it ain’t so!”
Go, go, go to store for more.
Chug it and don’t stop—swig, swig, swig.
Rounds in a gin spree…a high-proof pig.

Up he’ll be stocking, to fill the well;
when it’s topped off, things are swell!
Give him a bottle and watch him pry
off the top, then belt down redeye.

“Skol! Skol! Skol!” He’s on a roll
Bowls of Skol fill his swig-hole.
Chug it and don’t stop—swig, swig, swig.
Rounds downed lib’rally…a high-proof pig.

It’s pretty shocking to see the bill
from the store…helped to drain the till.
It comes to thousands…as well as tax.
He’s gonna blow it all if he don’t relax.

“Go, go, go from this house! Blow!!
Go no more off to the booze store. Schmuck!”
yells his spouse, “Stop with the drink,
or you’ll be swig-free and in the clink!”