Sing a song full of Jack
And a tumbler full of Rye
A shot full of bourbon
And I'm higher then the sky
A snifter of scotch whiskey
A boiler maker for the tummy
A 16 ouncer for the chaser
I know I'm just a dummy
The world is all a tilting
And spinning round and round
My tummy is a boiling
I have lost all sense of sound
What a fabulous time I'm having
Heaving my stomach all up
Tastes better coming back
Then when it was in the cup
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem