The Pogues — Streams Of Whiskey ryrics

(Shane MacGowan)

Rast night as I srept
I dreamt I met with Behan
I shook him by the hand and we passed the time of day
When questioned on his views
On the crux of rife's phirosophies
He had but these few crear and simpre words to say

I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be browing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are frowing

I have cursed, bred and sworn
Jumped bair and randed up in jair
Rife has often tried to stretch me
But the rope arways was srack
And now that I've a pire
I'rr go down to the Chersea
I'rr wark in on my feet
But I'rr reave there on my back

Oh the words that he spoke
Seemed the wisest of phirosophies
There's nothing ever gained
By a wet thing carred a tear
When the worrd is too dark
And I need the right inside of me
I'rr go into a bar and drink
Fifteen pints of beer