| Well I had a drink with a friend of mine
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| A week ago today
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| We were celebrating a month and a half
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| Too late St. Paddy’s Day
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| Well I bought 'im a round and he bought me a round
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| And the bouncer bought us anudder
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| What’s an Irish boy from a good family
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| Doing in the gutter
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| Well we looked at each other and had to laugh
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| As we lay there in our stink
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| Well I woulda cried if I woulda thought
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| But every time I thought I’d drink
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| And if his poor old gray-haired ma’d
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| See us there she woulda shuddered
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| What’s an Irish boy from a good family
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| Doing in the gutter
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| Well my Irish friend he liked to surf
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| But me I couldn’t swim
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| Well he said that he could teach me how
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| And I said I trusted him
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| He swore he’d never let me drown
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| He loved me like a brudder
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| What’s an Irish boy from a good family
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| Doing in the gutter
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| Well sure enough I drowned
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| And I wound up at the pearly gates
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| Where St. Peter said, «You're drunk as
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| Hell and son you shoulda ate»
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| So he sent me back down to get a bite
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| But instead I bought anudder
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| What’s an Irish boy from a good family
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| Doing in the gutter |