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Description
I sit on the dock of the murky bay
With whiskey in hand, gazing at the sky
It makes me wish I was weightless, could fly
Like the wisps of clouds, larks and gulls that play
Far from the confines where we all must stay
Earthbound, my delight is the juice of rye
So even though my end may now be nigh,
my thoughts have all fled as far as they may

As liquid gold smoothes down all the grit
that comes with life, the drudgery
As man must contend with sorrow, all that,
I'll drink until they drop me down a pit
and pay no mind if it leads to paupery
A dram, a dram! Until I fall down flat