Drunk Checklist Poem by Dessie McCoy

Wow I wish Captain Morgan didn't pass me those shots.
I should of resisted those things but who cares, why not.
No chasers, I'm falling over now I'm throwing up wish i was sober.
Stumbling on my words and yes my feet.
Now I'm praying the bathroom would meet up with me.
Music is too loud but turn it up this is my jam.
Well i think it's my jam I'm bobbing to every thing that plays on the radio man.
I have work in the morning I better loosen up for this long bearded Uncle Sam.
In formation sweating bullets, trying to hold back my drunk smells which is steadily pouring.
What the hell it's not my fault I blame it all on this guy named Captain Morgan.