I used to own a bar
Until the choir came to town.
They’d had an iffy concert
And they had sorrows to drown.
So they said, “How ’bout a beer?”
And from the wall I took one down.
I gave it to a tenor
Who then passed it aroun’.
And so this was repeated
For nearly a hundred bottles
With the choir singing all throughout,
Their dance reduced to tottles.
And then they left. My walls were bare.
My alcohol was gone.
But the thing I’ll never ever forget
Was that god-forsaken song.
The Daily Travesty 