Sippin' My Twelfth Bock o' the Day

Sippin' in the morning sun.
I'll be sippin' when the evening's come.
Scotch ain't for me, nor gin.
I watch out for what I'm ingestin'.

I'm sippin' my twelfth bock of the day,
Sobriety slips away.
I'm sippin' my twelfth bock of the day,
I'm wasted.

The ebbing foam is gorgeous—
Head I'll soon be whiskin' away.
I prob'ly shouldn't drink more,
'Cause I gotta piss in a bad way.

Still, I keep sippin' my twelfth bock of the day,
Sobriety slips away.
I'm sippin' my twelfth bock of the day,
I'm wasted.

Look out, get out of my range!
Everything here is gonna get sprayed.
I got about ten quarts I must unloose.
Ten minutes later, I am drained and refreshed.

Sippin' beer; wantin' some more,
And this drunkenness starts to make me snore.
I tried those light beers; they bore—
Bock is six percent or more.

Now I'm just gonna sip my twelfth bock of the day,
Sobriety slips away.
Oooo-weee, sippin' my twelfth bock of the day,
I'm wasted.

[Wet whistle]