Oh, he doesnt smell like Irish Spring, \r<br>And he never taught me anything, \r<br>But still I slap my chest and sing - \r<br>Of My Drunken Irish Dad. \r<br>Oh, his face looks like a railroad map, \r<br>And he never shuts his freakin trap. \r<br>\r<br>But all the ladies catch the clap \r<br>From your Drunken Irish Dad. \r<br>\r<br>Ask a Hennessey, Tennessey, Morrison, \r<br>Shaughnessy, Reardon, and Rooney. \r<br>Theyll tell you the same \r<br>McNulty, Mulrooney, and Connor and Clooney, \r<br>All feel the same mixture of pride and of \r<br>shame. \r<br>\r<br>Finnegan, Hannigan, Kelly, and Flanagan. \r<br>Look to the ground while their dad passes by \r<br>Cafferty, Rafferty, Joyce and OLafferty, \r<br>Fight for his honor and then start to cry! \r<br>\r<br>Oh, we Irish lads are all infirm, \r<br>And our moods infect us like a germ \r<br>Cause were all the spawn of a pickled sperm. \r<br>\r<br> And we dont tan well either.\r<br>\r<br>From a Drunken Irish Dad!!!
