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Three Sheets to the Wind

I’m a loungin’ around on my trailer-house porch,

on my brand new plastic chaise,

just a feelin’ the blues while a gulpin’ the booze,

and a soakin’ up the rays.

There’s a record a spinnin’ on the phonograph---

pretty scratchy, but it’s Danny Kaye---

Wish that I had a boat, or a big vinyl float,

‘cause I’d like to be sailing today.

Chorus: But the booze is a lure, and a boat-less man’s cure.

I’m tequila’d and whiskey’d and ginn’d.

Ain’t no reason I need to go sailing,

'cause I’m already three sheets to the wind.

But my solitude gets the big heave-ho,

by the theme song of William Tell.

It’s my good buddy Matt, with the cool Hobie Cat,

a ringin’ up my cell.

It’s a perfect breeze, he’s a tellin’ me,

and the waves is real small...

that he’ll bring all the booze for an afternoon cruise,

his Nicole and a red-headed doll.

Chorus: But my face has gone pale from the whiskey and ale;

I’m too schnockered and my blood is too thinned.

It’s a cinch I’d love to go sailin’,

but I’m already three sheets to the wind.

I’m a grabbin’ the keys to my pickemup truck,

and a headin’ toward the door,

but the booze is talkin’ so the house is a rockin’

from the waves on the livin’ room floor.

Well, it ain’t my decision, ‘cause I’m dreamin’ the vision

of a cruise with a read-heded doll.

But the weather’s turned bad, in my trailer-house pad--

I’m so seasick, I’m ready to fall.

Well, it ain’t the first time that a sail, sublime,

has ben ruined by a bottle of booze.

Sailings good for the soul, but I ain’t in control;

I’d be there if I only could choose.

Chorus: But the booze is a lure, and a boat-less man’s cure.

I’m tequila’d and whiskey’d and gin’d.

It’s a cinch that I’d rather be sailing,

but I’m already three sheets to the wind.

Ain’t no reason I need to go sailing,

'cause I’m already three sheets to the wind.