The Irish Pig
'Twas an evening in November,
As I very well remember,
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
... But my knees were all aflutter,
So I landed in the gutter,
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.
Yes I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen passing by did softly say,
"Ye can tell a man that boozes
By the company he chooses" -
At that the pig got up and walked away
The Irish Pig ( a poem)
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