I bang on the door but she won't let me in

'Cause you're sick and tired of me reeking of gin

You lock all the doors from the front to the back

and left me a note telling me I should pack

I walk in the bar and the fella's all cheer

Order me up a whiskey and beer

If you're asking me why I'm writing this poem

Some call it a tavern but I call it home

You've given me an option, you said I must choose

'tween you and the liquor, then I'll take the booze

I'm jumpin' on Western down to the south side

Where I'll sit down and exercise my Irish Pride