T.C. Folkpunk

Liquid Night-O-Gin

(T. Cameron)


From the album "Lamest Fast Words". Buy it HERE!


There she was in all her glory, telling me a sailor story,

As she cracked another can of malt,

I was patiently explaining, while the beverages were draining,

That her life had not come to a halt.


  And the marshall with eyebrows raising,

  Saw the game on the couch he's facing,

  So aloof like he's deaf but not so dumb.


I was pacing 'round the lobby, mister chivalry embodied,

Done down as I was in dungarees,

She would pour her facts and fictions, out admitting her addictions,

To those shining knighthood wannabes.


  Now the marshall is spilling retorts,

  Flowing fast like the pints of import,

  Laughing gasping past the point of tears.


    Does social networking still come in bottle form?

    'Cause I could go for some right now,

    I'm on the starboard drinking port throughout the storm,

    As I sternly take a bow.


She still haunted by the pirate, me becoming boiling irate

Ain't it funny how some things don't change?

Meanwhile something somewhere stirring, as the mist of time was blurring,

Floating me out of the rebound range.


  They say hindsight's a clearer vision,

  But only after your mind's revisions,

  Change the story to what you want to hear.