Irish mist or Irish green,
Perhaps it's the Bayles in your dreams;
A Johnnie Walker or Chivas Regal,
The dimples are good but should be illegal.
An Irish mist with a peppermint cream,
The after dinner mint with your island dream;
Red tulip or Ballentine's whatever is best,
They're both quiet rich and you put them to test.
An afternoon liqueur best after dinner though,
Or early in the morning when the mist is sitting low;
And it's a better to drink that to sit all day and wait,
In the hope you not missed that girl on your date.
Benedictine or Jack Daniels or still there's Jim Beam,
But not quite as perfect as an Irish mist can seem;
Then there's the Pims or a last minute Campari,
With a smile from the bar maid who looks at your starry.
Then there's a Drambuie or a Grand Mariner,
A Rahkua or Tia Maria or Orange Liqueur;
The Contraue or Bacardi or Remi Martine Brandy,
A beer might be nice or a wine or a shandy.
But if you happen to be taking a chance or two,
At the grand chancellor in Hobart know due;
Forget all the Irish and all that you missed,
Have yourself an Irish mist and remember you've been kissed.
Signed,
I drank them out
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