Did nothing but drink and warble ’til the cows came home
The drunken warbler, there he would sit, always and forever alone
No-one to bicker with, to share a bitch and a moan
No family, no wife, not a single soul to call his own
Only ever owned a clapped-out second-hand car atop the welfare, he really had no life, drank to forget all of the above, a down and out desperado when push came to shove
Drank Guinness to pass the time away, may have been costly, put a dent in his wallet, but this was as close as it would ever get to sublime
Sat beside a teen who had opted on a safer better, the lemon and lime, told him a few stories to which the teen shrugged his shoulders, wished upon a star that he had never to grow old
The drunken warbler, warbled on ’til swapping the Guinness for liquor, simply because it went down that much quicker
Drank ’til the next days hangover came about strong, proceeded to vomit all over the kitchen floor, stumble, fumble before finally making it as far as the front door
Release, unleash the most God awful pong, too much for his neighbour to take
This fella was in trouble, surroundings in his all too humble abode showed it, no such bubble to burst
Just him, his drink and the warbling, not to mention an unquenchable thirst when it came to all things wrong
What would his mother think?