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.
tied a hiram walker 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!