Lyrics The Drinking Song - Loudon Wainwright III

Drunk men stagger, drunk men fall
Drunk men swear, that's not all
Quite often they will urinate outdoors

Like widowed women, drunk men weep
Like children curled up, drunk men sleep
Like a dog, a drunk will crawl around on all fours

Be he broke, bum or rich rake
His dinner, be it bread or cake
His beverage be the worse of whiskey, finest wine

Puke, it stinks and so it seems
Drunkards go to great extremes
There's yet to be a perfectly straight line

Drunks talk strong when drunks are weak
It's easy for a drunk to speak
Straight from the heart

Oh, drunks will fight, they're not afraid
They'll kiss the mistress, make the maid
It's a manly art

Oh ah, but the drink a toll will take
Blood vessels in the nose will break
Bags beneath the eyes, another sign

Drunks get ugly, so it seems
Drunkards go to great extreme
There has yet to be a perfectly straight line
Straight line

Drunks are friendly when they're drunk
Drunks are hostile when they're drunk
Which drunk it is, it all depends upon

When drunks aren't drunk, they thirst for drink
Elephants are gray not pink
The drink evaporates, the man is gone

Gone back to the yachts and the subway cars
And the hip-flasks, and the fruit jars
Flat on the face, flat on the behind

Drunks get drunk, so it seems
Drunkards go to great extreme
There has yet to be a perfectly straight line

Straight line
Straight line
Straight line