Blind to his follies, a scallywag indeed,
With glasses so thick, but he still couldn't see,
The trouble with he, is that you can't guarantee,
Which persona you'll get from that schizo today,
One rum he's happy, the second he's a thrill,
4, 5 & 6 and it all rolls down hill,
He's like a giant baby who makes in his pants,
One too many drinks and he goes into a rant,
Bout you being wrong and he's always right,
Say one more word and we'll just have a fight,
He starts off as your friend but then in comes the booze,
Break out the coke and we all seem to lose.
Gone, lost, nothing to show,
The bottle is all empty and you're all out of blow,
The tale that you wove was a distinct one indeed,
Do the world a favor and don't plant your seed,
A kick in the balls is too good for you,
And I'm much to short, so I'll just say fuck you,
Arrrrrrrr, Thank you very much everyone. If you'll
Excuse me, I have a wench to pile drive... Peace!
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