So there I was, waiting on a lift as far out as Courtmacsherry
A place where I could well and truly rest my laurels
Get a little or a helluva lot merry
Soon as I stuck out my thumb
Along came the drunker than drunk trucker
Mother f**ker – plied to the last with Poitin
Prepared to talk about absolutely everything and everything, more often than not nothing
Told me to hop on in
Little did I know that I was just about to pay for a few of my more previous sins
The honk of the horn may well have been loud
But the honk on his breath left this passenger with nothing but heaps of momentary regret
He was burning the candle at both ends with one helluva load on his back
Willing to take any such slack that came his way
And what did he say?
That life had been particularly difficult for this one
He only spoke to himself this morning
Trying to keep calm when it comes to the issue of his misbehaving early-teens son
To stay clear headed, away from the rather attractive trigger of his mental gun
A fifty-year-old with a penchant for the drink
And what did I think?
‘Course I found it funny
‘Cos this was a one helluva story to tell
If he wants to drink then let him drink
He’ll be the one returning on home after a hard days graft
That throbbing bald head leant over the kitchen sink