Oh, he doesnt smell like Irish Spring, \r
And he never taught me anything, \r
But still I slap my chest and sing - \r
Of My Drunken Irish Dad. \r
Oh, his face looks like a railroad map, \r
And he never shuts his freakin trap. \r
\r
But all the ladies catch the clap \r
From your Drunken Irish Dad. \r
\r
Ask a Hennessey, Tennessey, Morrison, \r
Shaughnessy, Reardon, and Rooney. \r
Theyll tell you the same \r
McNulty, Mulrooney, and Connor and Clooney, \r
All feel the same mixture of pride and of \r
shame. \r
\r
Finnegan, Hannigan, Kelly, and Flanagan. \r
Look to the ground while their dad passes by \r
Cafferty, Rafferty, Joyce and OLafferty, \r
Fight for his honor and then start to cry! \r
\r
Oh, we Irish lads are all infirm, \r
And our moods infect us like a germ \r
Cause were all the spawn of a pickled sperm. \r
\r
And we dont tan well either.\r
\r
From a Drunken Irish Dad!!!
