Lyrics: Christy Moore. Delerium Tremens.

Goodbye to the port and brandy, to the vodka and the Stag,
To the Smithwicks and the Harp and the bottle, draught and keg.
As I sat lookin' up at the Guinness and I could never figure out
How your man stayed up on the surfboard after 14 pints of stout.

I dreamt a dream the other night, jaysus I couldn't sleep a wink,
The rats were tryin' to count the sheep and I was tryin' to get off the drink.
There was footsteps in the parlour and voices on the stairs,
And I was climbin' up the walls and I was movin' round the chairs.
I looked out from under the blanket, and up at the fireplace,
There was the Pope and John F. Kennedy and Jack Charlton and the three of them were starin' in me face.
And suddenly it dawned at me, hey by God I think I'm getting the D.T.s,
When the Child o' Prague began to dance around the mantlepiece.

I went, goodbye to the port and brandy, to the vodka and the Stag,
To the Smithwicks and the Harp and the bottle, draught and keg.
As I sat lookin' up at the Guinness and I could never figure out
How your man stayed up on the surfboard after 14 pints of stout.

Well I swore upon the bible that I'd never again touch a drop,
I tell ya my heart was palpitatin', I was sure it was going to stop.
And thinkin' I was dyin' I gave my soul to God to keep,
And ten pounds to St. Anthony to help me find some sleep.
I fell into an awful nightmare, and got a dreadful shock.
When I dreamt there was no duty-free in the airport down in Knock.

II dreamt an Paisley was sayin' the rosary and Mother Theresa was taking the pill.
And Frank Patterson was out of his head be God and he was singin' Spancil Hill.

Goodbye to the port and brandy, to the vodka and the Stag,
To the Smithwicks and the Harp and the bottle, draught and keg.
As I sat lookin' up at the Guinness and I could never figure out
How your man stayed up on the surfboard after 14 pints of stout.

I dreamt I was in ecstacy in Heaven and agony in Hell, I was bored in limbo,
And then I was in purgatory as well.
And there was original sins and venial sins,
And mortal by the score.
So I tied barbed wired around my underpants and I flagilated myself on the floor.
Then I dreamt I was in the confessional box and the auld Bishop said to me, he said,
"Any impure thoughts my child?" - the fuckin' barbed wire was killing me!
And then I dreamt I was in the jacuzzi with that auld whore in number 10,
And then I knew that I'd never ever, ever drink again.

I went, goodbye to the port and brandy, to the vodka and the Stag,
To the Smithwicks and the Harp and the bottle, draught and keg.
As I sat lookin' up at the Guinness and I could never figure out
How your man stayed up on the surfboard after 14 pints of stout.