Mother

It's six A.M., the cock has crowed, Cock a doodle doo I didn't sleep well last night Mother, how about you? I've had my gin neat, now I am complete So I can ride in the bus' back seat We know I cant drive, that's been revoked due to that beautiful gin bottle to which I am yoked You said I'm too emotional Whilst reading from your devotional That couldn't be further from the truth You see, Mum, I've washed it away with dry vermouth You birthed me into a world of despair and now you're asking me to care, Unfair Here I am at the cemetery once more Happy Birthday in heaven, Mother, What should I pray for?