It’s half past twelve <br />And all around <br />The Drunkies head for home <br />Some are walking <br />Some are talking <br />Some are better left alone <br />Who’re you lookin’ at… <br /> <br />Strangled laughs at jokes unfunny <br />Strangled bars of song <br />The Drunkies’ never stuck for money <br />The Craic keeps rolling on <br />Two more pints of Craic <br />And a small Craic with ice <br />And have one yourself… <br /> <br />To broken homes and broken wives <br />The Drunkies stagger back <br />Broken promises, broken noses <br />Bedroom opens, romance closes <br />Tears on a pillow not a bed of roses <br />Have you ’ere a cigarette... <br /> <br /> <br />But there’s nuttin’ heavy like... <br />No Drugs... None o’ that shit... <br />Only the few pints like... <br />And the Craic.... <br />Y’ know yourself… <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Martin Swords<br /><br />Martin Swords<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/down-among-the-drunkies/
