Sober is Wilbur, and Drew's been good,
But Grandma is soused, we know.
The force comes this way to haul her away,
Though she fights with fists and toes.

Odor of liquor, she's stewed but good,
A point one six she blows.
She slinks and groans, her plight imposin'
As ogres impound her dough.

Chauffeur delivers her through the hood,
A black and white Chevrolet.
Her dreary cell's stinking, clink-a-clink-clink,
As she is locked away.

Sobered, she shivers, some shrews they stood
To trash her addled gaze,
Sling soaring rounds of spiteful sounds
On this Thanksgiving Day.

Over comes Wilbur to do some good,
To pay to the guards her bail.
They deems she can go, she's shedding her woe,
As she's discharged from jail.

Hold her, forgive her, her dues withstood,
Now Grandma's back, we sigh.
Hurrah for buns, the turkey's done,
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!