 he hit me right in the face.
I drove the falcon uptown.
hung out in the library parking lot.
the swelling'll never go down.
pint of hiram walker's in the lining
of my father's old corduroy coat.
big, big plans hatching in my brain
and a big ugly lump in my throat.
I drove up to harvey mudd and I played pinball
'till I didn't want to kill anyone.
polished off all my cheap whiskey and stepped out into the california sun.
singing bainne na mo is a gamna,
and the juice of the barley for me.
singing bainne na mo is a gamna,
and the juice of the barley for me.
my thirst carried me up the coast,
where it only got sharper, god damn it.
in a small room that got even smaller
a block away from the wilamette.
there was nowhere I needed to go.
and nowhere I wanted to be.
from my window looked out upon nothing.
and nothing looked right back at me.
I had a couple of things on my mind.
a couple of problems to think through.
and I drank 'till I couldn't see straight anymore --
until there was nothing to drink to.
singing bainne na mo is a gamna,
and the juice of the barley for me.
singing bainne na mo is a gamna,
and the juice of the barley for me.
hey!
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