ROLLING DRUNK

Rolling Drunk

This anthem to the dangers and delights of drinking has a strange history. Sid came across it in an old book, which had been somewhat destroyed by mice. Taking a fancy to it he gave it to his uncle George, the wordsmith of the family, who reconstructed it as it appears here. At which point the book disappeared entirely and, despite, much searching, no other copy of it has ever been found. Strange, but Sid assures me it is true.

Rolling Drunk appears on Sid's album Chained Melody

As I come out this evening my missus she proclaim;

"Remember how you said last week you'd never drink again?"

If she thought that I'd remember, another thought she should have thunk;

It's Friday night, and I think I might get rolling drunk.

Rolling drunk, we will get rolling drunk,

We will get rolling, rolling, we will get rolling drunk.

Now some of us sip cider, while some prefer the porter;

Some they have their whisky neat, and some with soda water.

Add all them somes together, and the answer you can't flunk -

You'll have too much, and carry one home rolling drunk.

Bartholomew have never smoked a fag in all his life;

He only eats raw onions, and he's never had a wife;

Nor anybody else's - he lives just like a monk.

Religiously each Friday he gets rolling drunk.

Now just the other Friday the doctor he declared;

A history of boozing means your brain could be impared.

And so we set to proving that history is bunk -

Oh he imbibed what we prescribed, now he's rolling drunk.

And when the Inn have closed I will weave my way back home,

Full of the joys of Spring and singing loudly out of tune.

And if you should see me standing behind some old tree trunk,

I'm simply letting steam off, 'cos I'm rolling drunk.