Why I'll Never Be a Singer-Songwriter

What I’d love is if I posted these absurd lyrics on the Internet, and someone composed some accompanying music. Naturally we’d split the vast royalties sure to result.

When I was young, before my West was won
I didn’t like whiskey or gin.
Out on the town, when my friends were around,
My hankerings would cause me chagrin.

They say you can’t lose, when you’re buyin’ the booze
They won’t question your testosterone
It’s true drinking whiskey, or even Vermouth
But this beverage I crave alone.

So I’d summon the man, with the towel in his hand
And his finger on the club soda gun
Thirsty as Texas, parched as a prune
My booze-hounding not yet begun.

I’d started to think, “I’ll need a shrink,
if my order causes him to make fun.”
He said, “We’ll serve you some whiskey, or even some Skyy
but I won’t serve Bacardi Limon.”

So over the years, I conquered my fears
of spirits that coarsen the tongue.
I started with Boons, and when I made it to Cuervo
I knew that my journey was done.

That’s when I met you, drinking spiked Mountain Dew
My eyes filled to the brim with tears
Sure as God reigns I knew, that if I married you
I could feel manly just drinking beers.


And now it takes seven beers until I can’t remember
The sixth sense that I had you’d be my wife.
You spent 5 years in my head, four months in my bed.
Now it’s three in the morning
and the odds you won’t call are two to one.