The Irish Pig

'Twas an evening in November
And I very well remember
I was walking down the street in drunken pride
But my knees had turned to butter
So I landed in the gutter
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.

Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter
When a colleen passing by did loudly say:
"Ye can tell a man that boozes
By the company he chooses."
At that the pig got up and walked away.




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