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Oh, we went on the roam and we never looked back
In search of old Harry and the balderdash
And a cup of the creature and the sourest of mash
In the dram house down in Gutter Lane
Oh, we're roysters, we're rum coves, we're vagabond lads
Horny-backed giggling gals and harridans and hags
Between the cup and the lip, boys, it can turn sour sad
In the dram house down in Gutter Lane
So peer ye well at empty bottles a-rolling on the floor
So many goddamn dead men we can't make it out the door
We are swill-bellied rusty guts in need of one round more
In the dram house down in Gutter Lane
So let the spiritual flesh brokers blow on the coals
We're all flawed and we're fuddled, they shall not engage our souls
It's a noggin in the jar, boys, and there's gruel in the bowl
In the dram house down in Gutter Lane
Oh, we sleep under hedges, bridges and benches
We're a counterfeit brood of old sharpers and wenches
We're in the gun tanked up, aha, we've loosened up our cinches
In the dram house down in Gutter Lane
So lend me a blanket, landlord, you can keep the fleas
It's a drop in the eye and it's a kick in the knee
We're maudlin and we're muddled, too top-heavy to leave
This dram house down in Gutter Lane
So peer ye well at empty bottles a-rolling on the floor
So many goddamn dead men we can't make it out the door
Ah, we're swill-bellied rusty guts in need of one round more
In the dram house down in Gutter Lane