On my second tonic and gin,
wondering the state that I was in,
did I really tell the sheriff his gun was made of tin
and then told Londa “you need sin”?
Well, that might explain the bars that I see,
and the cold floor smelling like pee,
but in no way can I review why my pants are ’round my chin.
Oh hell, Londa, was it really you that said,
“I am going to call this in!”
My angel was on duty,
while my Friday was all caving in!
Dammit, I just needed love and understanding,
While I sipped on my tonic and gin.
While my head will not stop pounding,
my heart stomped on and flat,
It was only my second tonic and gin,
Not counting the Boilermakers I had before,
My mama told me not to go out again.