I gave up the whiskey for only a week; Made them a promise that I couldn’t keep. An old friend stopped over with bottles of rye; He toasted my health, “Here’s mud in your eye.” He twisted my arm, “oh c’mon just have one, What is the harm in a wee one and done?” He poured me another and asked me, say when; Well, one became two, then six became ten. To give up the drink, got to lose your old friends; Or they’ll drag you back down to those bad ends. We hit on the brandy and bottles of beer, Called on some lassies to add to the cheer. I fell off the wagon--now don’t start to preach; Keep your medallion and temperance speech. My week on the wagon, no day at the beach; Just leave me the bottle well within reach. more