He stumbled along through the alley,

He staggered his way through the park,

He fumbled his keys,

Balancing on his knees,

To see the keyhole in the dark.

He fell through the doorway at midnight,

And began to pass out on the floor,

His wife came downstairs,

Wearing 'one of those stares'

But too late! He had started to snore.

She tried a few kicks to the kidneys,

She tried a few blows to the nose,

But where lagers concerned,

There is no woman spurned,

Who can rouse a drunk comatose.

So our hero lay there till the morning,

In a pool of his dribble and bile,

And the moral of this little ditty,

If you're drinking then do it in style!