I speak through the whisky,
and the whisky speaks through me—
speaks the universal sound of the meaning
of this place, this place of laughs and tears.
The smoky drop distilled from life
opens up the channels of my fears and loves,
and fills me with such hope and fairy dreamy stuff,
only to drop me down and down into the pit.
Let me sit with a bottle and a glass and
let it snake itself warm inside of me and
lubricate those parts of weal and woe so
I shalt ne’er forget the human that I am.