I Celebrate St Patricks Day
Little Irish Bo-Peep
by: Rob Paquin
Little Irish Bo-Peep had lost all her sheets
and didn't know where to find them
She washed them last night, those sheets bright and white
and thought she had slept there inside them
But when she awoke, there was a beer stinking bloke
laying right there beside her
She seemed to remember, he was the bartender
where she met him she wasn't quite sure
On St. Patrick's Day, she drank the night away
and gave out more than one kiss
Her red hair was flowing, like the drinks she was stowing
and she danced with a flair to her hips
All the men were enchanted, all hoping to be granted
The results of her drunken advances
Lust in their eyes, not one of them dry
Shooting her their lustful quick glances
With the clock closing on 2, the night soon would be through
Her inhibitions were all but quite gone
The bartender stepped up, and offered her one last filled up cup
She took it with a smile so long
The rest of the night was a blank, she hoped that this was a prank
but somehow she knew it was not
She knew just what she'd done, she hoped it was fun
her thoughts were all in a knot
Now she's awake with some dread, with a strange guy in her bed
and all of her sheets are still missing
That man upon waking, gazed at her quite taken
and simply thanked her for all of the kissing
That's when he left, she felt so bereft
feeling as if she'd been used
But it was truly her fault, and not by default
but because of the drinks she abused
~The Irish Snowdog~
© TheSnowdog - all rights reserved
by: Rob Paquin
Little Irish Bo-Peep had lost all her sheets
and didn't know where to find them
She washed them last night, those sheets bright and white
and thought she had slept there inside them
But when she awoke, there was a beer stinking bloke
laying right there beside her
She seemed to remember, he was the bartender
where she met him she wasn't quite sure
On St. Patrick's Day, she drank the night away
and gave out more than one kiss
Her red hair was flowing, like the drinks she was stowing
and she danced with a flair to her hips
All the men were enchanted, all hoping to be granted
The results of her drunken advances
Lust in their eyes, not one of them dry
Shooting her their lustful quick glances
With the clock closing on 2, the night soon would be through
Her inhibitions were all but quite gone
The bartender stepped up, and offered her one last filled up cup
She took it with a smile so long
The rest of the night was a blank, she hoped that this was a prank
but somehow she knew it was not
She knew just what she'd done, she hoped it was fun
her thoughts were all in a knot
Now she's awake with some dread, with a strange guy in her bed
and all of her sheets are still missing
That man upon waking, gazed at her quite taken
and simply thanked her for all of the kissing
That's when he left, she felt so bereft
feeling as if she'd been used
But it was truly her fault, and not by default
but because of the drinks she abused
~The Irish Snowdog~
© TheSnowdog - all rights reserved
