Whiskey

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Lyrics © 2026 Maris S. I went to Boston and someone there told me: Hey, if you like music and whiskey, you should go to Memphis. A nice short trip, I thought. Thirty-five hellish hours on a bus later, I dragged meself into the first bar I saw. I bellied up and asked the man for Irish whiskey neat He turned and looked me up and down from head to me two feet He stared at me as if I'd left me common sense behind As lost as any run'way train upon the wrong rail line He proudly showed a shelf of bourbon from 'cross Tennessee "Fine," says I, "then pour me up that water you call whiskey" Alright then, let's see what you've got A cowboy dram for cowboy folk I'll give you one fair chance to prove ya But nothin' beats me uisce beatha* I raised the glass and gave the colour one thorough look The amber hue and caramel nose had me somewhat shook One sip — good God — it hit me like a wrecking ball A gentle warmth crept through me and I found meself enthralled I kept me face as neutral as a judge upon his throne And made a note: needs further study — best assessed soon Alright then, I see what you've got A cowboy dram for cowboy folk I'll give you one more chance to prove ya But nothin' beats me uisce beatha* The second glass was smoother, sweeter, softer on the tongue A taste so fine and delicate, I just had to succumb The last of me resistance fell, me dignity was done The truth of it was simple and I'll be completely blunt I rang the bell and yelled: "let's all drink together" I slammed me hand upon the bar and sang "and it's no, nay, never" The whole bar went as quiet as a summer country street A crowd of boots and buckles slowly rising to their feet I swallowed hard — but lord these people couldn't be more kind They pressed another glass in hand before I'd finished mine Alright then, I've seen what you've got A cowboy dram for cowboy folk A truth I never thought I'd call me own A drop as good as any one at home Alright then, I've seen what you've got A cowboy dram for cowboy folk A truth I never thought I'd call me own A drop as good as any one at home Next morning I woke up like a bishop at a wake And thought: not bad at all — worth every bloody ache ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ *uisce beatha, Irish, meaning "water of life," the origin of the word whiskey itself