The Crab's Drinking Song

Bring me a whiskey, Keelin.
I’m feeling risky, Keelin.
I’m feeling in the mood to
Try something dumb.
Don’t say I hadn’t aughter
Fill up with firewater.
The liquor’s calling me to
Come and get numb.

I’m in the food to frolic
With something alcoholic,
Parked by a campfire
With a bottle or three.
When I spit in the fire
See how the flames leap higher.
My veins have lighter fluid
Running through me.

Sitting beside the blaze,
Drifting into a haze,
Feeling my body functions
Slow to a crawl:
The temperature is dropping.
My insides all are flopping.
This wasn’t such a
Good idea after all.

The time now is oh dark thirty.
My mood is turning dirty,
Curled in a fetal ball
Inside of my tent
Oh God! When bowels attack,
Here comes my dinner back!
I’m hypothermic
And my innards are bent.

Unhappy circumstance!
Back up the ambulance!
My weekend’s over
And misery abounds.
But here’s a bitter lesson
That I have learned, I’m guessing:
Never get plastered
When the Bard is around.