A song I went and done for a band I don't have

Binge drinking is bad. Let’s get that out the way for starters.

Look at this binge drinker. Do you want to look like this flippant goon?

Flippant goon. Accessories models own

The Man claims that, as a nation, we have the worst relationship with alcohol in the known and perhaps unknown world. The Man is calling for minimum pricing and applying stricter licensing laws as the answer. But this form of social drinker kettling technique is not the answer. Making drunkenness acceptable during the morning commute, at the office and down supermarket aisles. Now this would solve binge drinking.

I only bring this boozy subject up, because I was partaking in a bit of binge drinking the other evening. For those who have done binge drinking then the scenario will be as known as well worn slippers:

Starting out with intentions of having “just the one” with a friend, the conversation quickly moves to the day’s activity at work, a reciprocated drink bought later and the discussion continues onto good old times and shared memories, a “one for the road” after and I am revealing to anyone who’ll listen what I think is both a good idea and, simultaneously, a fundamental problem – stopping only for a little air drumming to the song on the jukebox – before deciding to go home, finding the envelope of a utility bill and settling down to write a country and western song on the back of it.

Ah! A story as old as the fermentation process itself.

This is what I penned.

Thank you, thank you. We are Greville and the Tombstones. Now, here is a song I wrote [oh yes – I should say at this point, I did an introductory dedication bit, as is customary to any country and western song, as well] for a girl. Yeah, a girl. I don’t think she’ll ever know it’s for her. But it is. Not that she’ll care. Will You, Sara-Lou!
Anyway this is one I call – Your Thieving Hands.

You took me heart,

I did not give it,

You could’ve had part,

But that wasn’t your game.

You’ve got it caged,

Somewhere very secret,

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

You say it was,

Anyone’s for the takin’,

But if it’s truly yours,

Why can I feel it breakin’?

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

A crooked act,

Of your own doin’,

You smoked it out,

The night we drank.

I had sweeter plans

For my heart a-brewin’

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

And now I’m on,

Experimental medication,

My blood is circulated

By machine intervention

The electrics need cooled, by twelve fans

So I’d like it back,

From your thieving hands.

Sara-Lou you sonofabitch!

Of course I can’t play guitar, so it would be mostly bongo led.

Ultimately, I believe the lesson here is: stopping binge drinking would prevent me getting into this good ol’ boy kind of nonsense.