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lyrics written by Brian Hageman and Hugh Swarts
At the bar in the middle of a wide river, we're drinking lards heated on the stove.
The bartender spoke up and said, "Yeah, well, drip, drip, drip." We all fell down, uh-huh!
To swimming pools of black, bubbly booze we give our hearts and close our eyes.
When it's dark we'll hardly notice. The river flows till well after dark.
Drinking rusty water from dry and dusty lips, winding down and falling down, I make my wine from fish.
By ten o'clock there will be no more. I'll be sipping at the floor. I've finally spoken to my dessert plate and it's finally starting to see that the mold that's grown is only its own. It'll put no fat on me.
I've distilled from past events and the passing of events a single long and satisfying burp.
More glee. More glee.
In the middle of a crisis I lose my nerve. Please kill me now.