Split Beers and Drunken Tears

I’ve got a bone to pick with you
But I’ll wait till I’ve had a few
Cos confrontation never was my style
There’s something that I wanna say
And its not gonna go away
This one thing has taken me a while
To think up in my head
Of something that you said
Some incoherent mumbling strikes my ears
What’d you say about my mum?
Are you saying that I’m dumb?
I heard you loud and clear you said to me
No sorry I don’t have one
Which means to me
Put down whatever you are drinking now so I can take a swing
Let down your guard so you’re an easy target
Now you’re skating thin
Ice cold I’ll empty both your glasses then I might take your girl friend out
Just give it up you’re no match for me
I’ve got a bone to pick with you
And I don’t think its something new
My tolerance is wearing way too thin
Your smell it makes me sick
I think you’re gonna pick
A fight with me out cold before we start
You’re yelling up a storm
Tonight you’re in good form
8 brewskis down the hatch and you’re still up
I said nothing about your mum
I’m not saying that you’re dumb
Its your tendency to misinterpret me
No sorry, I don’t have one
Which means to you...