Frosty Jack's
On the park bench he sat,
With his bottle of frosty jack's.
His mate, who had drank too much
Lay flat out on his back.
He was trying to make a roll up
But given his situation,
A puggled mind, cider drunk,
No chance of co-ordination.
But he could always hold the bottle,
he held it in both hands.
Lifted it, took a mighty draught
Then off to the promised land.
They were heading for oblivion,
Down a one way, drunken track.
Minds befuddled, slowly fading,
Being killed, by frosty jack's.
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