My voice is cracked, my throat’s worn out and my lungs are going fast.
“Say, give me another whiskey and I’ll tell you what I’ll do—
I’ll tell you a funny story, and a fact, I promise, too;
That I was ever a decent man, not one of you would think,
But I was, some four or five years back, say, give us another drink.
“Fill her up, Joe, I want to put some life into my frame—
Such little drinks to a bum like me are miserably tame;
Five fingers—there, that’s the scheme—and corking whiskey, too,
Well, boys, here’s luck, and landlord, my best regards to you.
“You’ve treated me pretty kindly and I’d like to tell you how