Louchin’, my absinthe each afternoon,
sweetened…water drips on sugared spoon.

My pickled whistle well be getting wetter,
and after several I’ll be feeling better.
There ain’t a taste other for me; I’m drenched from
boozin’ rounds—and more than just a few.
Losin’ track of time and my name too.

There’s other kinds of drinks; none sings to me;
I will have none that aren’t the “Green Fairy.”
It makes me happy; it just can’t be beat…love
louchin’ on a drunk-day afternoon,
feelin’ better than a just-laid groom—
go, go, go, go!

I’ll keep on spending much of every day
in getting sloshed in a decadent way.
It’s the Decadents gave us the name “Fee
Verte” for the ecstasy coming from drenching sprees
louchin’ on a drunk-day afternoon,
leachin’ sugar through a slotted spoon—
Go, go, eau flow.

Louchin’
much muddled stuff.