Digital Tradition Mirror

Alcoholic Baby

Alcoholic Baby

Come to me my alcoholic baby,
Cuddle up and don't get tight.
You've consumed a lot of whiskey, baby
I thaink that should hold you for the night:
Not ev'ry stomach has an iron-clad lining
Wait until the gin soaks through,
And smile, my honey dear
While I finish up my beer
So that I can be alcoholic, too.

Tune: Melancholy Baby, of course.
Note: Heard from Don Frye, a saloon piano player, ca 1950

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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