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Must I keep a secret of An intestinal snafu As Katrina gathered strength, Even when it blew and blew? Say you lose track where you are, Like we drinkers often do, It still seems a bit bizarre Waking up in the wrong pew. So perhaps I sounded shrill, Screaming for a morning after pill, But I'd seen the place before And again could be a horrid bore. Flying over would be slick, But pills don't kick in quite that quick. The secret's not just where I was – Tequila did what roughage does.
Music by Harry Warren |