 Ode to Grog, Swill, and Mead After me first taste of mead I see an ever increasing need To hold on to a chair Lest all that which was air Suddenly turned out to be None other than the sea And after tasting swill I would feel safer still If I were totally sure Of the fact that chairs were Something that could float Like perhaps a ship or boat Maybe a duck would do? I’d feel better if I knew By what means I’m bound To keep from being drowned In this ocean of alcoholic haze Yet some it doesn’t seem to faze That the floor has begun to tilt And sober resolve has begun to wilt I’ll tell you of my first drink of grog And how it put me in such a fog I almost thought that I saw An iceberg through it all What I yelled, I dare not reiterate But I can confidently state Never will I forget what I remember Of that day in cold Dismembre When I had more drink that I should And was much too merry for my own good. - Drakon Lass |
