Wake up in the morning with a pain right in your head,
Hurts like hell, you just go back to bed,
Just leave your work for later, yer horse it ain't been fed,
"Serves you right for drinking" you recall somebody said.

But you ain't complainin'!
Nah you'll keep drinkin' through the nights!
No you ain't complainin'!
You know in the end it's right!

Letters pile high upon the table in your busy office room,
You'll get to all that fan mail, right now it's just too soon,
'Cause that pain it ain't subsidin', you feel like yer on the moon,
See yerself walkin' down the street but you forgot your pantaloons.

But you ain't complainin'!
Nah you'll keep drinkin' through the nights!
No you ain't complainin'!
You know in the end it's right!

Now they're linin' up outside yer door, to visit you at home,
But yer in no condition and you wish they hadn't come,
So you just lie there in your bed some more, hopin' they'll move on,
"You're nothin' but an alcoholic," Man how you wished that they'd been
wrong.

And now yer complainin'!
'Cause they ain't leavin' you alone!
Yeah now yer complainin'!
You silly Dwarf you should be done!

To fix this pesky problem, there's only one thing you can do,
Just drink some more and swallow down so you haven't got a clue!

You know in the end it's right!

Riashain a'Bertal
The Bard Lord

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Phaestian, in the year 366 AF.