whiskey
Irish Whiskey
Mourning a lost love,
At a table for two.
With a bottle of whiskey,
Keeping him blue.
No consoling words,
Does he want to hear.
He just thinks of her face,
And that brings the tears.
Maybe by drinking,
He can forget.
Not knowing that drinking,
Keeps her in his head.
In the morning he’ll rise,
And start once again.
Drinking Irish Whiskey.
That eases his pain.
– Juan Olivarez
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A Bottle And A Friend
There’s nane that’s blest of human kind,
But the cheerful and the gay, man,
Fal, la, la, &c.
Here’s a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o’ care, man?
Then catch the moments as they fly,
And use them as ye ought, man:
Believe me, happiness is shy,
And comes not aye when sought, man.
– Robert Burns
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