Whiskey makes me sober

Pouring into the nosing glass, raising it high. 
Let the brown, tender liquid reflect the smooth light.
Observing the fluid drawing reams - 
stretched laws of gravity along the glasses seam.

And I close my eyes in remembrance of you, 
your meadows and moorlands, your cliffs - and your Stew.
I sink  into the taste of this strange kind of lifeblood,
the remains of impressions surge in in a high flood.


Overwhelmed by nostalgia I put the glass down again
to take a closer look at what it contains.
I gotta return before summer is over
... Whiskey makes me sober...

Demanding relief in a dance and a song
hoping to get the homesickness a little less strong.
That place’s caught my heart, although it’s far from my “home”
providing my soul a new pilgrims' dome.


A place to stay and to flee from despair.
As I dream away into Irish affairs,
I am thinking back, thinking it over and over -
....Whiskey makes me sober...


To the sinners I count, to Saint Patrick I pray
that he’ll get me back to Ireland one day
yes, I gotta return before the next flask is over
... Whiskey makes me sober...