Sister Bridget by the stair: a glass of wine and she¡¯s almost there.
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Cousin Jimmy at the door: another beer and he¡¯s on the floor.
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Friends and neighbours come around,
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waste no time we¡¯re heaven-bound.
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But not before we raise a glass to good camaraderie.
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Stinky Joe from down the street fell right over his own three feet.
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He¡¯s doubled up in the outside loo, to taste again the devil¡¯s brew.
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Friends and neighbours come around,
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waste no time we¡¯re heaven-bound.
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But not before we raise a glass to good camaraderie.
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So make yourselves jolly under mistletoe, holly and ivy.
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Get to it ? and be in good cheer.
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And when it¡¯s all over: pigs gone to clover ?
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Will the last man at the party wish me a happy New Year.
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The house is jumping, suppers up. Curried goat in a paper cup.
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Forks of plastic, knives of tin: who cares what state the goat is in.
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Someone with the gift of song
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has brought his pal to sing along.
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Now they¡¯re turning up old Frank Sinatra on the stereo.
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Last Man At The Party
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Jethro Tull |