Eight well drinks. . must be pissin',
But I'm baked, so I'm missin'
The bowl bright and white;
My sight isn't right.
Wobbling while I'm whizzin' in the can.

Gone astray is my flume, erred.
One I lay--there's a fume aired.
I'm swingin' my schlong
Trajectory's wrong;
Wobbling while I'm whizzin' in the can.

There's the dread flow, spillin' on the floor, an'
Exiting the ceiling, bargin' down
Onto Uncle Harry. the outpour ran.
Bedewed he rued, "Thank god that it's not brown!"

Later on, I retire,
But I dream 'bout a fire
That's torching a glade;
I've a ready-made
Waterworks for whizzin' out the brand.

There's the bed flow, spillin' on the Ohms, an'
Wettin' coverlet, soon circuits down.
The electric blanket starts to glow, an'
My golden locks turn a smokey brown.

A fuse blows from the spillin'
Wore my hose, up they're fillin'
So I make my way to my mate's bidet,
Wobblin' while I'm whizzin' where it's banned.