Maker’s Mark

Bottoms! Bottoms! Glasses of Maker’s Mark,
Quackery cure-all if taken devout –
A shot a day keeps the heart aspark;
Pump, pump, tidal through a regular route,

No different are we, one the other,
Mine is yours, my new friend, have another!
To hell with things, tonight let’s not bother,
I’ve known you since when? What’s your name brother?

What’d you say about my mother? I’ve
Heard the same of yours, but cheaper, much so,
In fact the rumor says she smells of chives
Down there. Up where? Where the sun doesn’t go?

How’s this for a fist? I’m bigger than you!
That’s it, I quit – Enough! I’m turning blueâÂ?¦

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