Lletres: Pogues, The. Streams Of Whiskey.

:
Last night as I slept

I dreamt I met with Behan

I shook him by the hand and we passed the time of day

When questioned on his views

On the crux of life's philosophies

He had but these few clear and simple words to say



I am going, I am going

Any which way the wind may be blowing

I am going, I am going

Where streams of whiskey are flowing



I have cursed, bled and sworn

Jumped bail and landed up in jail

Life has often tried to stretch me

But the rope always was slack

And now that I've a pile

I'll go down to the Chelsea

I'll walk in on my feet

But I'll leave there on my back



Because I am going, I am going

Any which way the wind may be blowing

I am going, I am going

Where streams of whiskey are flowing



Oh the words that he spoke

Seemed the wisest of philosophies

There's nothing ever gained

By a wet thing called a tear

When the world is too dark

And I need the light inside of me

I'll walk into a bar

And drink fifteen pints of beer



Iam going, I am going

Any which way the wind may be blowing

I am going, I am going

Where streams of whiskey are flowing



I am going, I am going

Any which way the wind may be blowing

I am going, I am going

Where streams of whiskey are flowing

Where streams of whiskey are flowing

Where streams of whiskey are flowing